


Bluebirds in the Moonlight

by baeconandeggs, rainsblankpage



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Homophobia, M/M, Mental Illness, Minor Character Death, PTSD, Romance, Strong Language, World War 2, mention of harassment, mention of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-13 08:02:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 43,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18936796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeconandeggs/pseuds/baeconandeggs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainsblankpage/pseuds/rainsblankpage
Summary: Chanyeol stood at the front for three years. Morocco, Italy, Normandy, Germany and that folded paper was still there, inside his pocket. The photo that, even if crumpled and deprived of any color, showed a smile more dazzling than any rainbow. The smile of his first love, the beautiful florist that gave Chanyeol a reason to keep on fighting for his life.“Come back to me, Chanyeol”And he did, because he hadn't confessed his love yet.





	Bluebirds in the Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** BAE651  
>  **Disclaimer: baeconandeggs/the mods is/are not the author/s of this story. Authors will be credited and tagged after reveals.** The celebrities' names/images are merely borrowed and do not represent who the celebrities are in real life. No offense is intended towards them, their families or friends. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this fictional work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
>   
> 
> **Author's Note:** So, I’m here again this year! First of all, I want to thank my dear beta, who helped me throughout the whole process, from all the research, to the storyline and then the actual writing. Without her, this story wouldn’t be here, it probably wouldn’t be even completed, and half of the merit should go to her too. Thank you so much, I love you! Then, I’d also like to thank all my friends that supported me, morally and most of all with their precious advices! Now, to you, dear readers: I wish that this story will make you smile, cry and hope. This is for all those people whose love still isn’t accepted, to those who are struggling with their health, both mentally and physically, to those who lost a dear someone. Don’t ever stop fighting.
> 
> <3.

 

_“On the summer sky the airship hangs,_

_Slow motion bullet of a god,_

_While the red sun, lead end of gun,_

_Smokes at the forehead of all dream._

 

_The Sunday housetops line the world,_

_The Sunday papers fill the rooms,_

_The headlines drain the human veins_

_Pouring the future in a stream._

 

_And the mankind lies beneath the towers_

_Against a rising wall of cloud:_

_In wedge and torture boot of hours_

_From the jowled silence comes the scream._

 

_And Sunday leans upon the town_

_Enormous seraph with the heirloom brow:_

_From the blue eye of the blond sky_

_Who shall cast out his mammoth beam?”_

 

**On the Summer Sky The Airship Hangs,** Oscar Williams, 1939

 

 

◉

 

Chapter I

**_Come home, little Bluebird_ **

 

Chicago

**_January 3, 1946_ **

 

 

The train was moving fast. 

 

Outside, only the snow remained, covering everything in white. 

 

Silence raging, too loud, too defeating. 

 

_That same silence that used to announce a massacre._

 

Chanyeol was on that train, curled up on his own legs, looking at the scenery forever sliding outside of the window. During those four years, he had always thought about how it would feel to sit on that train. To go back home, to run away from Hell. 

 

But little did he know, back then, that Hell would follow him. 

 

Chanyeol stood at the front for three years. First in Morocco, then Italy, Normandy and Germany. 

 

When The United States declared war on the 11th December 1941, he knew he had to leave soon. His brothers were still children, his grandfather couldn’t even walk anymore and they had lost their father many years before. Chanyeol was the only man left in the family. 

 

He was just eighteen, and he had seen things an eighteen-year-old should never see.

 

Before the war, Chanyeol had lived his years lonely. 

 

Since he was barely a child, he knew his mind worked differently. Chanyeol ignored toys, hated sports, refused to follow his father on Sundays, when the man used to go to a bar in the center of Chicago just to see the new episode of _Harriett Lee._ His days were mostly spent with his grandfather, in the small garage the old man owned, listening to him read books about every animal species mankind ever wrote about. If he closed his eyes, he could still see that dear home-made Heaven, the only place on Earth that could make his young heart feel at ease. 

 

During the hot summers of Chicago, Chanyeol would venture himself in the garden: magnifying glass in hand, the explorer hat his grandpa gifted him on the head, a consuming desire to learn in his heart and the already too tall and lanky kid was ready to go. He observed all kinds of insects he could find, writing shaky and mostly incorrect notes on an old notebook, raising his head just to look at the birds singing on the nearest tree. 

 

One day, on the outskirts of winter, he saw a bluebird. 

 

It wasn't on a tree but lying on the ground, the first snowflakes covering his shaking fragile body. Chanyeol rapidly ran to the little figure. With itching breath and wet eyes, he covered the poor creature with a blanket he had stolen from one of his newborn brothers. He took the small bird home, with such a care that a child his age shouldn't even know. He still remembered how the bird fatigued to breathe and how one of his wings looked too hurt to fly again. As he observed the creature with watery eyes, Chanyeol told himself that, no matter what, he would help the little bird spread its wings again. A minute after, he was already working with his little, shaky hands, remembering everything his old grandpa told him about birds and crafted a cast with a _Popsickles’_ stick he found in the bin. Chanyeol made sure to feed his newfound companion two times a day, providing it a nest made of pillows and blankets near the garage’s stove and, in two weeks time, the bird healed. 

 

Ever since that moment, the boy promised himself that he would never hurt any other being. 

 

But, _oh_ , how cruel destiny was. 

 

Whenever he closed his eyes, flashes of what stood before and during the war attacked him. 

 

Lifeless bodies falling like leaves. Limbs exploding along with grenades. The sea tinted with fresh blood. Corpses floating together with the fish. Someone screaming before death devoured them. That one last man standing praying useless pleadings to a god that left him to burn in a terrestrial Hell. 

 

Chanyeol could still feel it. He could still feel the weight of that empty body he carried on his back, with the man’s blood staining his clothes and memories. That boy was probably as young as Chanyeol was but an explosion had destroyed both his legs and one arm, leaving what was left out in the open, with pieces of skin dangling in the cold and dusty wind. Chanyeol knew, he knew he was dead, but he screamed at him nonetheless, telling him to wake up, to stay with him, to hang on that small crumb of life he had left, because he was still so young. 

 

Chanyeol didn’t even know him. 

 

He didn’t know his name, nor how his face looked under all that blood and dirt. During that night, waiting for the allies to come and save them, Chanyeol stood next to him, as if the boy were still alive. He covered his limbs with the jacket of another dead soldier, protecting him from the cold, even if he knew how silly it was, but he just had to feel _human_ again. Chanyeol wondered how that nameless face had lived his life before the war came, if he had a mother waiting for him back home, or maybe a father, a whole family or a lover. Maybe he liked reading poetry, or football, or, who knows, maybe looking at the stars during summer nights. With the sun still down, Chanyeol took his torch out of a pocket and shifted near the body, opening the other’s jacket and looking for the metal plate that was still hanging on his neck. Just like its owner, it was stained with blood and had a hole on one side. 

 

_Bobby Michael Butler._

 

_PVT 3 3285472._

 

For many years, Chanyeol never forgot the name and number written on that plate. 

 

After morning came and the sound of allied airplanes started to resonate in the silence, the lonely soldier threw one last look at the body and then at the small plate, before reaching for his own pocket. The folded paper was still there, crumpled and ruined on more than one corner, but the image was still clear, forever shining in his memory. 

 

_Baekhyun._

 

His first love was smiling in the picture and, even if deprived of color, he still looked more dazzling than any rainbow. Chanyeol caressed it, remembering how it felt to touch him, just like that last time. 

 

That one, last night before he left. 

 

_“It’s called Acacia flower”_

 

_“What’s its meaning this time?”_

 

_“I’m not gonna tell you yet, so you have to promise me one thing. You have to come back. To me”._

 

The boy remembered how his eyes were drenched in tears he was trying to hold back or how his voice had cracked more than one time. He looked so broken, as if he was about to fall right there, but the other knew he wasn’t going to break down in front of him. Chanyeol just held the shaking body, so alike to that fragile bird he once saved, caressing his back and tightening the hug as if it was their last. 

 

Because it could have been. It could have been the last time he saw the only person who made his heart feel at home. 

 

_“Come back to me, Chanyeol”_

 

After they parted, Chanyeol made sure to take one of the photos he had taken of Baekhyun and a small Acacia flower with him, hiding them inside a book. Since the very first day, his memory of Baekhyun had been the only thing that reminded him of how beautiful the world looked outside, away from the front. Living so many years on the battleground made the soldiers forget about how the real world looked like. Sometimes, some of them even forgot that _there was_ a world outside the trench. It felt like there had been nothing before the war, nor there would be if they came back. They just stood in the middle, trapped in a loophole, living every day like it was their last. 

 

But Chanyeol didn’t want to forget. 

 

He didn’t want to forget the voice of his old grandpa when he told him about the newest animal species he had read about, the noisy laughters his little twin brothers made whenever they ran after him in the garden, how soft the fur of his ferret Darwin was. 

 

He didn’t want to forget Baekhyun, how he sounded when hummed his favorite song, _The White Cliffs of Dover_ , or how it felt like to touch his hands whenever he held Chanyeol’s for no reason at all. He didn’t want to forget all the flowers Baekhyun gifted him whenever they met or that satisfied and proud smile he wore every time he told Chanyeol about each of their meanings. He didn’t want to forget how Baekhyun was the only person who made him feel like he was worth something, that he wasn’t just the weird kid who sat all alone by the old tree, munching on his sandwich with a sad scowl on his face because no one wanted to talk to him. 

 

Baekhyun gave Chanyeol a reason. A reason to keep on fighting for his life and go on, after every bomb, every wound, every bullet, every mourning. 

 

Chanyeol had to come back because he hadn’t confessed his love yet. 

 

Baekhyun might have changed, forgot about him, found someone else to be happy with but Chanyeol still had hope. The hope that Baekhyun might had been waiting for him, too. 

 

“I’m coming back” Chanyeol murmured, hugging his suitcase “I’m coming back to you”. 

 

Out of the window, Chicago’s landscape appeared. Chanyeol watched the buildings he knew by heart with a heavy feeling in his chest: a mixture of anxiety, fear and a distant sign of happiness. He started to wonder what could have changed during the war, if his old Chicago still looked the same. It had been four years since the last time he saw that skyline, but it felt so much longer. Chanyeol left when he was only a kid but now his heart felt as fragile as an elderly’s, just like his mind, which had matured too soon, in the span of such a short time. He changed and he was scared that not even his own family or love wouldn’t be able to recognize him. His hair had grown longer, a bitmore curled and messier. His legs and shoulders were now taller and wider, but what terrified him the most were his eyes. He spent more than three years without looking at his own reflection and, when he first caught a glimpse of it in the hospital’s mirror, he couldn’t even recognize his own face. Baekhyun always told him that his eyes shined, almost glistened, but he couldn’t see those sparks anymore. They looked like the eyes of a dead corpse: dull, lost, empty but full of all the horrors they had to see. 

 

That same Chanyeol who used to run under the stars with Baekhyun had disappeared. 

 

And he was scared. 

 

The annoyed voice of a man announcing that the train was nearing Chicago’s station resonated in the carriage and broke Chanyeol out of his trance. The man fixed his round glasses on the nose, holding his suitcase and proceeding to walk with his head low. When the door opened, the snowy wind blew on his face and the scent of home attacked him. The air around him smelled like _West Town Bakery_ ’s lime pie, the same one his old grandpa used to buy on Sunday mornings for him and his brothers, filling the house with that same sweet smell. His heart was still beating fast, but it suddenly felt warmer. 

 

He was back. 

 

As he wandered around the Station, he noticed how everything looked the same, but felt different. Standing at the entrance and looking at people passing by, with no fear of a rifle pointing at your back or a bomb falling right above you, was almost a foreign sensation. The air smelled so sweet without the deadly odor of fresh blood and gunpowder infesting it. Someone even smiled at him as he walked dragging one of his legs down the street, looking at him with pitying eyes at the sight of such a young man destroyed by the war. 

 

_What will Baekhyun think of me, now?_

 

_Will he be…disgusted by me?_

 

Chanyeol’s eyes stung while looking at his reflection in the window of a shop he found on the way. 

 

He tried to fix his mop of hair and the long coat he had on, but with no results. His own image in the window was staring back at him, reminding Chanyeol of everything he didn't have and listing all his flaws one by one.Some scars were still visible on his face, like the deep cut of a knife he had on his cheek, to not count all the other ones he had scattered around his body. One of his legs was abidingly damaged since the day a grenade exploded right next to him and he couldn't even bend his knee anymore. His right hand trembled and moved only partially, but the palm and fingers were completely numb. During an ambush in Normandy, a bullet hit his hand and damaged the nerves permanently. The doctors told him it was called Parasthesia. The hand practically dead. 

 

Chanyeol thought about all the letters he used to send Baekhyun from the Front and all the ones he couldn't write. He cried so hard during those times, when he stubbornly tried to scribble something but only ended up tracing meaningless scrawls. He couldn't even hold a pen anymore. 

 

Chanyeol screamed, cried his heart out, tore the paper in a thousand pieces because he just couldn't afford to lose him, his love, and let Baekhyun forget him because his hand wouldn't function. He couldn’t pray another soldier for help. His love was considered a sin and, therefore, it had to stay a secret. He asked the God above just how much pain he was bound to suffer before exploding completely and launching himself in front of a machine gun. But every time those moments came, it was always the same thought that brought him back to sanity. 

 

He promised Baekhyun he would come back. 

 

And Chanyeol kept the promise. 

 

Familiar buildings and shops started to appear as he took that one, old road. His heart was pounding so hard, every beat exploding and resonating in his ribcage. Chanyeol tried to not dwell on how terrible he looked or how much the damaged leg hurt, because he was going back to where his heart belonged. He started running as fast as he could, dragging his leg and painting but he just couldn't wait anymore. Despite all the fears, his limbs pulsating, the memories haunting him in the back of his head, he needed to see him, his Baekhyun, before anyone else. The mass of people on the sidewalk moved away, some looking at him with worry, some others glaring at him with disgust. But he didn't care.

 

He didn't care because the only thing he could see was the little shop at the end of the street. 

 

_White Daffodil_ was still there, with its windowsills adorned by a thousand flowers, the sign that looked too rusty on one side and the walls tinted in a faint yellow paint. The past came back like a violent wave but it wasn't suffocating him, it was keeping him afloat while guiding him back. 

 

_Baekhyun._

 

Chanyeol started to run again, even faster, using the last bit of energy he had left, his breath itching. With his entire body trembling, he reached for the door. Letting the suitcase fall at his feet, he hesitated for a moment, before finally entering. 

 

The ex soldier’s heart got caught in his throat.

 

_“C-Chanyeol?”_

 

He was there.

 

The only reason that had kept him alive was there.

 

Baekhyun was right there in front of him, holding a jar full of flowers and paralyzed at the sight of his friend at the door. After all those years spent just looking at an old picture, admiring the real Baekhyun felt so unreal. 

 

His bluebird was just as beautiful as he had always been. 

 

It was just like the first time. 

 

Chanyeol was only thirteen when he met Baekhyun and, as he still remembered bitterly, their first meeting was far from being one from a fairytale. 

 

During that summer, Chanyeol ran some errands for his old grandfather, like riding his bike to the nearest market to buy some fresh milk for his brothers, carefully carrying the bottles in the basket. The road always looked the same whenever he passed by, but that day something looked different. At the end of the street, a man was moving heavy boxes from a truck to a little store freshly painted in a soft yellow tone, while a woman was putting some tulips on the windowsill. It wasn’t even open yet, but the brand new metal plate was already dangling in the wind, hanging from one of the walls. 

 

_White Daffodil._

 

Chanyeol read, squinting his eyes behind his round glasses. It contrasted so hard with all the other buildings painted in dull shades, like a ray of sunshine making its way behind some rainy clouds. He slowed down, still riding but in a slower rhythm, when someone else got out from the truck, holding a box full of flower pots. 

 

There he was, his first love dressed in a blue sweater, smiling as he passed right in front of him, waving one of his hands in Chanyeol’s direction. The world around him stopped moving and suddenly there was only that boy. 

 

But as everything else stopped, Chanyeol did too, falling on the concrete right under the boy’s eyes. Such a perfect first impression. 

 

“ _Oh my god, are you okay?”_ The stanger’s voice resonated in the air, so soft and harmonious, as delicate as the summer breeze. In a matter of seconds, he dropped the box to the ground and crouched down next to Chanyeol, looking at him with worried eyes. 

 

Oh, beautiful eyes. 

 

“ _Does anything hurt? Do you need help?”_

 

Chanyeol couldn’t even bring himself to form a coherent answer, as if those eyes completely destroyed his ability to speak. From the store, _They Can’t Take That Away from Me_ by Fred Astaire started to play and he couldn’t believe just how fitting it felt. The boy was still looking at him and Chanyeol was entranced by the light that seemed to be surrounding him. The sun was gracing his skin so delicately, as if scared to touch such a beautiful being. 

 

_“Y-your eyes”_ Chanyeol muttered, still under his spell. 

 

_“My eyes?”_ The boy answered with the hint of a smile blossoming on his face. 

 

_“T-they look l-like the ones of a Sialia Currucoides”_

 

And with that, a sound even more heavenly than the song playing from the store resonated in his ears. He was laughing, but so gently. The boy wasn’t making of him or laughing behind his back, just like everyone else did. He was just surprised by such an odd situation, where a very tall and lanky guy just fell on the ground in front of him and compared his eyes to those of a bird. His gaze wasn’t mocking, it wasn’t piercing through his skin like pointed daggers, but it grazed him gently and curiously. 

 

No one had ever looked at him like that before. 

 

Like he wasn’t the weird, lonely outcast who carried on his back only disgusted whispers and derisive glares. 

 

_“It’s supposed to be a compliment, right?”_

 

Chanyeol just nodded, looking at the other smiling so genuinely. 

 

_“I-it’s the scientific name for B-Bluebirds”_ he had the habit of stuttering while repeatedly fixing the glasses on his nose whenever he felt nervous. 

 

_“Oh, they’re pretty then”_ the boy laughed again, just when Fred Astaire started singing about his loved one’s smile in the background. _“You must know a lot about them”._

 

_“Z-zoology is m-my passion”_

 

_“Really? It sounds so interesting, it must be fun to know so much about animals”_

 

_“I-interesting?”_

 

_“Oh, yes!”_ He exclaimed, sounding so authentically excited. _“I study botany in my free time”_

 

It felt so foreign to talk about his passion with someone who wasn’t his grandfather, without receiving only jokes as an answer. There was no hint of complacency in his eyes, they glistened in happiness instead. Since he was a child, his passion for animals always caused his loneliness. Other children didn’t accept him and his blabbering about insects or different species of reptiles, leaving him alone without even asking for his name. That little lonely child always tried, he tried so hard to talk to the other kids he met every Sunday at the park, but none of them wanted to listen to him. 

 

He always remembered that one time where his father took him to one of his old friend’s child’s birthday. Chanyeol was only ten and so excited to make new friends, spending hours thinking about how he should dress to make the perfect first impression. He pestered his dad for the whole morning, asking him to fix his tie and hair perfectly, just like he did every morning before leaving for work. When he looked at his little self in the mirror, he thought he looked good and maybe, that time, they would talk and play with him. His dad even told him his friends had two little dogs in the house, one for each child, and he was just so excited to bring his own pet along, to show them how pretty he looked.

 

At that age, little Chanyeol’s best companion was his ferret Darwin, his only _forever friend._ His grandfather gifted it to him the year before, after teaching the child everything there was to know about the species and Chanyeol loved it with his whole heart since the first day. He spent the rest of the morning cleaning and combing his little friend’s fur, while the small creature just cradled on his lap and licked his delicate hand. He thought Darwin looked so pretty, with his round eyes and long, fluffy body and Chanyeol was so sure: his new friends would love him. 

 

But it didn’t go well. 

 

As soon as the kids saw his pet, they started crying, screaming at their parents to just take that _rat_ away. Chanyeol didn’t understand. Why didn’t they like Darwin? He tried to ask but the two children just stared at him with disgust, telling him that if he owned such a rat maybe he was as dirty as it was. 

 

Chanyeol spent the entire afternoon crying in a corner of the room, hugging Darwin to his chest and telling him that it wasn’t true, that he was so pretty the way he was. The little animal, who loved his friend dearly, just licked his little face repeatedly, comforting him. 

 

From that day, Chanyeol understood that he was different and that no one was going to accept him for who he was. 

 

But Baekhyun proved him wrong. 

 

_“My name is Baekhyun”_ he offered his slander hand to Chanyeol. _“And yours?”_

 

_“I-I’m Chanyeol”_

 

_“Hi Chanyeol!”_ Baekhyun giggled again, his eyes forming two half moons. _“I really hope we meet again!”_

 

Chanyeol, still on the ground, just nodded, unable to speak, while taking the other’s hand for the first time. 

 

After that day, he passed by _White Daffodil_ every morning, admiring Baekhyun from the shop’s windows. 

 

And like that, his young and inexperienced heart found its home. 

 

“I-I” he stuttered. “I’m back” 

 

Chanyeol’s hand was trembling, his leg giving out and his head throbbing more and more at every kick of his heart, but when Baekhyun dropped the pot to the ground and launched himself onto him, he couldn’t feel any kind of pain. All the happiness that had been caged for all those years was finally free to invade his body and he could feel it, flowing through every vein. Baekhyun was there, in his arms, holding him so tight like he was afraid he would leave again. He was crying, shaking, and Chanyeol hugged him tighter, just like he had been dreaming to do for so many years. 

 

“They kept telling me— you were dead!” Baekhyun finally spoke, almost chocking trough the tears. “But you — you promised me — you couldn’t be dead!” 

 

His words sounded disconnected, desperate, impregnated by all that pain he had gone through.

 

Baekhyun spent every day looking out of the shop’s windows, hoping to see that one familiar figure passing by with his bike and, sometimes, he swore he heard his voice. When he turned around, however, he wasn’t there. He listened to the radio whenever he could, mostly at night, praying for the host’s voice to announce the armistice, but every time it was just more death, more bloodshed, more bombings, more battles. Baekhyun kept on writing letters to Chanyeol, waiting by the door for his replies, but when they stopped coming he almost lost all his hope. He rode his bike toward Chanyeol’s house, every day, asking his grandfather if _they_ came, but the answer was always negative. 

 

So he kept on waiting. 

 

He kept on waiting for the day _his love_ would come back to him, no matter how everyone kept telling him he wouldn’t, that his body was probably lying somewhere foreign and that no one had found him yet. Baekhyun kept telling himself that there must have been a reason as to why the letters stopped coming or why Chanyeol’s name wasn’t among the fallen ones…because he promised, right? 

 

And Baekhyun hadn’t even told him the meaning of that last flower, yet. 

 

During their last night together, Chanyeol came knocking on his window. Baekhyun looked at the clock hanged on the wall as it marked the time between 4:50 and 5:00 am, but when he saw his friend’s face through the glass, he almost fell off the bed, wearing his slippers as fast as he could. That night, Chanyeol held his hand like never before, guiding him through the deserted streets, where only the light of some lamppost illuminated their way. There was silence between them but there was no need for words. Barely a few hours later and he would be accompanying his first love to the station, looking at him disappearing into the distance. 

 

Maybe, for the last time. 

 

As they wandered through the streets of a sleeping Chicago, Baekhyun admired Chanyeol walking. His beauty was so peculiar, _weird_ as some may say. His hair was a bit long and unkept, almost covering the pretty eyes that shined so brightly even if hidden by those round, cramped glasses. Baekhyun always thought that the way he smiled was so fascinating, alluring even, with plump lips that usually bled because of how often he bit them. His way of walking was lanky and insecure, with his head always low, as if he was trying to hide his face.

 

But no matter how everyone saw him, to Baekhyun he was so sincerely beautiful. With his wild hair, kind eyes, pointy ears and those big, clumsy hands that always fumbled between themselves. 

 

He stopped, in the middle of the street, and Chanyeol looked at him worriedly for a second. Before leaving his house, Baekhyun made sure to take one, very special flower from a pot and hid it in his trousers’ pocket. With a heart beating so fast and a tear running down his face, Baekhyun held a small, yellow flower in his hand and slowly offered it to Chanyeol. 

 

“ _Is it another one of your flowers?”_

 

Baekhyun was reminded of all those flowers he gave Chanyeol on each of their meetings and how he carefully explained their meaning as they looked at the sky above them. Carnations, tulips, daisies, they all reminded him of Chanyeol for different reasons but that one was special. 

 

_“It’s called Acacia flower”_ he smiled bitterly, as he looked at the other with his head tilted. 

 

_“What’s its meaning, this time?”_ Chanyeol’s eyes were wet too and a stiffened laugh escaped his lips. 

 

Baekhyun shook his head: _“I’m not gonna tell you yet, so you have to promise me one thing”._

 

Chanyeol held his hand tighter, looking at him with so much adoration in his eyes and the smaller just gravitated toward him, cupping one of his cheeks: “ _You have to come back. To me”._

 

And he did. 

 

He came back. 

 

“I’m here” Chanyeol whispered, as some clients started to gather around them. “Y-you have to fulfil your promise too, right?”. 

 

Baekhyun suddenly left his arms, looking at all those people watching them curiously, and grabbed Chanyeol’s hand, pulling him through the shop and towards the back door. He didn’t notice the other dragging his injured leg, barely able to walk. 

 

“Kyungsoo” Baekhyun whispered to his brother coming out of the same door, with an expression that reflected a mixture of shock and confusion at the sight of Chanyeol. However, the look in Baekhyun’s wet eyes was enough for him to understand that every question had to be kept for later. “Please take care of the shop for me, just for today”. 

 

As the younger nodded, Baekhyun pulled Chanyeol out of the door. The chilly winter breeze grazed his skin, making him shiver, but he didn’t care, because Chanyeol was finally there, in front of him, and he wasn’t a dream. The taller removed his coat, wrapping it around Baekhyun, and in a matter of seconds that scent he missed so much enclosed him completely. His love was looking at him, with eyes full of tears and a smile that spoke more than all those letters they used to write to each other. Chanyeol had changed so much during those long years but not those eyes and smile, _no._ They were still shining so brightly and it may have been a different kind of light, a bit dim and tired, but it was still there. Baekhyun stretched his hand, holding Chanyeol’s face and tracing all those scars with his thumb, as new tears started to run down his cheeks. 

 

“You’re here”. 

 

“Yeah”. 

 

They were barely whispering, talking with each other’s eyes as everything else stopped mattering. Chanyeol raised his arm, reaching for Baekhyun’s hand against his cheek and delicately laying his on the other’s. It was trembling, almost shaking, and Baekhyun noticed Chanyeol’s eyes changing, darkening. The smaller looked at his loved’s body and everything started to crumble as he realized just how destroyed Chanyeol was. His hand wasn't moving out of emotion, it was out of control. Chanyeol’s whole weight was supported by only one of his legs, while the other was slightly bent and looking dead. His whole face was covered with deep scars, just like his neck. 

 

Another tear fell down. 

 

“What—“ he could barely speak. “What did they do to you?” 

 

“It—It was _Hell_ , Baekhyun, it was—“ 

 

Chanyeol’s breathing was itching and his words barely audible. He started to fumble violently with his hands, scratching the skin with his nails, eyes wide open and lost. 

 

For a second, he was back on the battleground: soldiers screaming, bombs landing, the ground exploding, bodies falling. Chanyeol couldn’t breathe, it felt like his lungs inhaled that same dust and gunpowder that used to infest the air. Someone was screaming for him in the distance, calling his name, but he was trapped inside the nightmare, feeling his skin being tore apart by a thousands of bullets. He was falling down, reaching the ground, as the sky started to crumble above him, suffocating him. He was under the sea, with the water pushing him deeper and deeper into a dark void, penetrating his insides…but he could see a hand, reaching for him, pulling him out. 

 

“ _Chanyeol!”_

 

Another scream, calling for him again, from the surface. 

 

_“Chanyeol—Chanyeol listen to me!”_

 

Those hundreds of letters. 

 

That photo resting in his pocket. 

 

The acacia flower hidden in his book. 

 

_Baekhyun?_

 

“Chanyeol please, breathe!” 

 

He reached for that hand, swimming out of his nightmare.

 

As soon as Baekhyun wrapped his arms around him, Chanyeol came back. His skin felt wet, tears mixing with drops of sweat, his heart drummed so rapidly that it felt like it was exploding. Baekhyun was caressing his back, holding him tight as Chanyeol completely collapsed on him, his nose hidden in the other’s neck as if that spot was the only safe place left on Earth. The smell of gunpowder and blood completely disappeared: he could only inhale Baekhyun’s scent now.

 

“I’ve got you, Yeol-ah” he whispered in his ear. “I’m never letting you go, not again”. 

 

Chanyeol was desperately clinging on Baekhyun, as if he was the last rock he could hang on before falling into a void. He needed to feel him close, to touch every part of the other’s body with his, abandoning himself to his love. 

 

“You—“ even talking seemed so difficult. “You’re saving me—again”.

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

Baekhyun let go of Chanyeol but his hand was still lying on the taller’s shoulder. The hint of a smile appeared on Chanyeol’s lips as he wiped away a tear with the sleeve of his shirt. He looked at the sky for a moment, breathing soundly and sighing, but Baekhyun could see hope in his eyes. He was still visibly shaking but reached his pants’ pocket with his trembling hand, taking out a folded piece of paper and handing it to Baekhyun. 

 

“You—you’ve always been with me” Chanyeol said, voice unsure and faint. “I always—I always kept you beside me, right here”. 

 

He pointed at his heart with one shaking finger. Baekhyun looked at the now opened paper, revealing the last thing he was expecting to see: It was a photo of him, dressed in his favorite blue sweater and smiling happily. Folded with it, there was also a little, dried, yellow flower.

 

“Whenever I was scared—whenever I felt like nothing else existed outside of that Hell” Chanyeol looked at him. “Whenever I felt like—just giving up on life…you were always there to—to remind me how beautiful the world outside was. So I just…stood up and found the strength to fight once again, for my life, because—because thanks to you I—I understood I was worth something”. 

 

Baekhyun reached for Chanyeol once again, cupping both of his cheeks and drying the tears with his thumbs, even if his own face was streaked with tears. 

 

“You’re worth more than something, Yeol-ah. You’re worth so much more”. 

 

He was caressing Chanyeol’s face, removing some wild locks from his eyes and looking at him like he was the only thing that mattered. It felt so much like _finally_ being at home, clenched by the arms that made him feels safe. There was no battleground in the horizon, no screams, nor blood or pain.There was just the sound of his grandfather working in the garage, of his brothers playing in the garden, of his little friend Darwin running on the wheel. There was the scent of sweet pastries on Sunday mornings, the sun setting on Chicago, that cinema on the outskirts projecting movies that were to old to be screened. There was the daily news announcing a rainy weather, the postman passing by their house to throw the day’s newspaper and the neighbours fighting over a football match.

 

There was just Baekhyun, colouring the air with his joyful laugh, reminding Chanyeol just how worth it was to live his life if he part of it. 

 

“Thank you, Baekhyun” a sob. “Thank you for saving my life”. 

 

 

◉

 

 

That day at the station, Baekhyun felt his heart being torn apart. For the rest of his life, he would always remember how it felt, like a strong hand ripping some of his skin, leaving him incomplete. 

 

The days followed slowly, painfully. His body was being mashed by that longing feeling and devoured by the fear of losing him, his _first love_. For a week he didn’t work, eat nor sleep. Hesimply stopped living. His father would ask him for help at the shop but he just refused, saying he wasn’t feeling good, that he has gotten sick because of the cold. 

 

No one knew he spent his days listening to the radio announcing news from the Front. 

 

He laid on his bed, looking at the ceiling above him, holding onto that sweater Chanyeol forgot on his desk months before. It still smelled like him and he couldn’t help but hug it every night to his chest, praying someone over the sky to bring him back home. As the number of victims kept increasing every day, Baekhyun started crying himself to sleep, only to wake up screaming because of all those nightmares that constantly tormented him. 

 

In some of them, he saw Chanyeol’s dead body floating in the sea, covered in blood and pierced by a thousands of bullets. Other times, the taller’s twin brothers came to his house to tell him that Chanyeol was dead. And sometimes, Chanyeol was dying in his arms. 

 

Eight days after he left, Baekhyun received his first letter from Chanyeol. 

 

He wrote about how desolate Marocco looked, how all the inhabitants had run away as soon as some cities started transforming into battlegrounds. Chanyeol told Baekhyun how itchy the uniform felt and how short the pants were: they could barely cover his calf. For the first time in days, Baekhyun let out a breathy laugh thinking about how funny the other must have looked with those trousers not fitting his long legs. 

 

Chanyeol also told Baekhyun about how some flowers were starting to grow outside the barricades. He didn’t know their name, but they were yellow and shined so brightly under the sun. Chanyeol saw them as a sign of life, the symbol of rebirth against death. 

 

It gave Baekhyun hope and that night, for the first time in days, no nightmares haunted him. 

 

But as weeks went by, Chanyeol’s letters started to change. 

 

Baekhyun could see his light burning out word after word. He didn’t tell him about how flowers grew where grenades landed. He didn’t tell him about all those kids he saved from the bombings and how they repaid him with kisses all over his face. He didn’t tell him about the little bird that used to chirp every morning outside the trench. He wrote about his wounds, the lacerating fear or how he couldn’t save his companions from the mortars. 

 

Chanyeol was devastated and Baekhyun felt like he himself was on the battleground. He started to work again but doing even the simplest thing was so difficult when everything he had on his mind was Chanyeol. Baekhyun spent hours looking out of the shops windows, waiting for his love to appear with his bike and to tell him that everything was just a horrible nightmare. He dropped pots, cut flowers too short, wounded himself with scissors, stumbled on his own feet. His parents and brothers tried to be understanding, helping him to put bandaids on his cuts and giving him a hand whenever he fell to the ground because, even if Baekhyun never told them, they just _knew_. 

 

One day, his older brother, Junmyeon, found him on his room’s floor.

 

Baekhyun’s knee was bleeding, his back jerking at every sob. He was shaking, throwing punches at the floor and whispering chocked words between the tears. 

 

_“Baekhyun, oh God, is everything okay?”_

 

_“N-no”_

 

_“You’re bleeding!”_ the older rushed to him, grabbing some tissues he found on the way and damping them with the water of a half finished bottle his brother left on the floor. “ _How did you hurt yourself like that?”_

 

_“I-I”_ Baekhyun stuttered. Some tears ran down his face as Junmyeon gently pressed the wet tissue on the bleeding wounds. _“C-Chanyeol wrote to m-me…h-he—I panicked and f-fell, I-I—“_

 

_“What did he say?”_ the older brother was looking at Baekhyun with gentle eyes, caressing his arm with his free hand. 

 

_“H-He’s hurt, Hyung! They threw some grenade at him a-and—and now he isn't able to movehis leg anymore_ ” his sobs only got stronger. _“I want him to…to come back to me, Junmyeon. It's been two months and—and I just can't live like this anymore. I can’t live knowing he’s out there hurting himself, knowing he…he could—“_

 

Baekhyun’s voice cracked and his chest started to move too fast, making him unable to breathe properly. 

 

_“Sssh”_ the younger found himself being engulfed by Junmyeon’s arms, longing for that feeling of protection he dearly missed. He let himself be lulled by his brother’s heat, resting his head in the other’s neck and crying. His brother just held him tighter. _“Destiny may reserve you unpleasant surprises but it also knows how to be benevolent. After the rain, it comes the sun. After the storm, it comes the rainbow. After the war, it comes peace. Everything may be a nightmare right now, but one day you’re gonna wake up and he’ll be there. He’ll come back, entering the shop’s door, opening his arms for you. And from that moment, I promise you, only happiness will come”._

 

Junmyeon knew. 

 

Junmyeon saw how his little brother’s eyes lit up whenever Chanyeol appeared riding his old bike. He listened to him talking about everything Chanyeol told him, looking so bright. He also knew that all those flowers Baekhyun stole from _White Daffodil_ were for him. 

 

His brother was bathing in the light of his first love. 

 

_“He promised you, didn't he?”_

 

Baekhyun nodded. 

 

_“Then trust him. He will come back to you”_ he gently caressed the other’s hair. 

 

_“And remember that I’ll always be here for you, too”._

 

In that moment, Baekhyun believed him. 

 

If only that monster called Destiny hadn’t been listening. 

 

And as It planned, his brother left him too, two months after that day. 

 

 

◉

 

 

They were walking as the sun started to set and a few snowflakes graced the streets. 

 

Back at the shop, Chanyeol realised it was time to meet his family again, after almost four years. He should have gone alone, but Baekhyun couldn’t bring himself to watch him leave once again, just like he did before the war.

 

The snowy wind made it a bit harder to walk, but the two hid their noses in the scarfs they were wearing and kept their hands intertwined. Baekhyun didn’t want to let him go and Chanyeol couldn’t disagree with that. 

 

“Does your family know that you came back?” Baekhyun asked. 

 

“They don’t. I wanted to write them a letter but…I can’t” Chanyeol’s eyes darkened again and the smaller stopped, gently removing the scarf from his face to see him better. While doing so, he couldn’t help but graze his reddened cheek with the back of his hand. 

 

“What do you mean…you _can't_?” 

 

The soldier lowered his gaze, finding it difficult to look at Baekhyun in the eyes, and limped as the pain in his leg grew heavier. Chanyeol slowly raised his left hand, showing it to the other: Baekhyun traced the deep scar with his eyes, observing how much it trembled even more at every blow of the wind. 

 

“My hand—a bullet hit it and…destroyed the nerves” one sigh. “I can’t—move it properly, nor hold even the lightest object. I can’t even feel it anymore. It’s—It’s dead”. 

 

Those were the eyes of someone that felt ashamed. Chanyeol kept them on the floor, drying every tear with his hand and sighing. His back was hunched and he repeatedly shifted the weight on his legs, as if Baekhyun’s gaze was too heavy for his tired and wounded body. Chanyeol couldn’t look at Baekhyun, forever so perfect and shining, because he didn’t feel worthy enough. All those voices in his head kept telling him that the other was too much for him, that hisdestroyed body was too disgusting to be loved. What was he, by then? The remains of that child who saw the horrors of the world too soon. Everyone had told him already, didn’t they? He was just the weird kid sitting alone near the tree, because no one wanted to talk to him. 

 

But Baekhyun never cared. 

 

“Hey, look at me” the smaller almost whispered as he took Chanyeol’s trembling hand between his. “Is this the reason why…you stopped replying to my letters?”. 

 

Chanyeol barely nodded, drying a tear once again. 

 

“I…I thought you forgot about me” that wasn’t true. That same fear devoured him alive every night, crawling on his bad like a starving monster. He thought he had _lost_ him. 

 

Chanyeol raised his head suddenly, eyes gaping and still wet. “I would never forget about you, Baekhyun!” his shocked face was almost funny. “I tried so hard…I tried to write so hard but I couldn’t even hold the pen…it just kept falling on the ground and everything that came out were just…scribbles. I couldn’t even ask for help…”. 

 

Baekhyun looked at him in the eyes and noticed how some snowflakes landed on his curly hair and face, colouring his cheeks with a faint shade of red. He held them with his hands and his nose was not even a centimetre away from the other’s, making it harder to resist and stop himself from kissing Chanyeol right there, under the falling snow. 

 

“You’re here now” he smiled. “And it’s all that matters to me”. 

 

Chanyeol’s lips curved slightly as Baekhyun kissed his wounded hand. He couldn’t feel those lips, but his heart did. 

 

“Let’s go, now. Imagine how happy they’ll be when they see you. Sehun kept asking me to reserve you some pretty flowers, because he was sure that his _Hyung_ would come back one day” Baekhyun let go a breathy laugh and took Chanyeol’s trembling hand in his, resuming their walk. “Whenever I came by your house, Jongin would always be the first to answer the door. I could hear him running down the stairs. He always thought it was you”. 

 

Chanyeol smiled again, a bit more bitterly this time, but kept on walking. Baekhyun’s hand was still holding his and he desired so hard to be able to feel it. But his heart did, it knew how it felt like, because it was beating so hard inside his chest. Baekhyun’s was just the same. 

 

The snow was slowly falling above them, covering their heads with little white dots. Chanyeol stretched his healthy hand, watching how every flake laid there for a second and then disappeared. Chicago was enveloped in a white blanket and time seemed to be frozen. Only a few cars passed by the street, no bikes nor people in sight: only the faint sound of silence could be heard. The soldier raised the head and closed his eyes, feeling the wintery air and those delicate dots of cold falling on his skin. He was at peace. 

 

Behind that wall of falling snow, Chanyeol could see the outline of a familiar building. That little house away from the center, with a bright red door and smoke coming out of the chimney. His grandpa had forgotten some clothes in the garden and they were still hanging from the old rope, swinging in the wind. 

 

_Nothing really changed, huh?_

 

Chanyeol turned his head to Baekhyun, who was smiling at him. 

 

“Come on” he gently encouraged him as one of his hands reached for Chanyeol’s round glasses, fixing them properly on his nose. “Go”. 

 

The smaller let go of his hand but the soldier held him once again. “Come with me, please?”. 

 

He couldn’t let him go. 

 

There was such a strong force trying to push Chanyeol towards the other, making his insides writhe with the need of being even closer to him. Baekhyun just nodded and gently pushed him toward the door, positioning himself behind the taller but resting one of his hands on the other’s back. 

 

Baekhyun couldn’t let him go either. 

 

Because he missed him, so hard and intensely. 

 

He just looked _so beautiful_ under the falling snow. 

 

 

“ _I’m coming!”_ the voice of Chanyeol’s grandpa could be heard from behind the door. 

 

_“No, grandpa!”_ it was Jongin’s this time. It sounded deeper, manlier, but still familiar. _“What if it’s Hyung? I have to go!”_

 

Chanyeol felt his heart constricted in a morse. His brother was still waiting, after so many years, for him to come home. He could hear his grandpa sadly sighing and Sehun wasn’t saying a word, as if their hopes had already been shattered. The snow was still falling heavily but he could feel the warmth of Baekhyun’s hand on his lower back, keeping him upright. Chanyeol tried to comb his hair, removing the remaining flakes, hoping to look a little bit better for his family. He still remembered how his old grandpa used to brush their hair, ironing their _good clothes_ before Sunday’s mass, trying to make everything look perfect. The man made them sit on their grandma’s old vanity as he gently took care of them, smiling through the mirror with so much love for those children he called his own. 

 

And then, the door opened. 

 

“Oh, _Lord”_ he stopped. 

 

Seconds passed and the man just stared at him. His brothers stood behind him, almost paralysed, eyes fixed on his. Didn’t they recognised him? Did he change too much? Was he that destroyed?

 

“I’m back” 

 

At the sound of that voice, his grandfather’s eyes got filled with tears. They were like a mirror breaking right in front of him, pieces of shattered glass falling along the curves of that wrinkled face. The same man that saw his own son leaving through that door was looking at his grandson like he was a miracle. 

 

_“Chanyeol-ah”_ it was barely a whisper, like his old body couldn’t stand uttering any other words. 

 

Park Chanwook was a First World War veteran. For more than two and half years, he fought. He lost one eye, half of his leg and a part of his hearing. His wife died before he came back, two months after giving birth to the same child that would leave him with his three kids. He lost him to alcohol, to depression, to the pain of losing his own wife. One night, he just took the car and disappeared, drunk. With the sound of the two little twins crying as he left, old Chanwook looked at him exiting that door and never coming back. 

 

He died that same night, losing control of the car. 

 

Chanyeol lost his mother when she gave birth to his brothers and looked at his father leaving him behind. That night, he didn’t even cry. His grandfather hugged him to sleep, promising him that he would never leave him. 

 

“My _son—_ you’re here” his grandpa didn’t even hug him, he was too shocked to do so. He just stared at him, as if he couldn’t believe that it wasn’t just another one of his dreams. The man cupped his tall grandson’s cheeks, trying to hold back the tears and breathing heavily. 

 

“Hyung! Hyung!” his brothers came running, launching themselves to him like they did many years before. When they were barely kids, Chanyeol used to lift and drop both of them on the bed, only to shower their faces with kisses. He looked at them as tears started to fall heavily down his cheeks and Baekhyun strengthened the hold on his back. They changed so much during those four years, blooming into two handsome young men in their fifteens. He could see some stubble growing under Jongin’s nose and Sehun’s face got more mature, sharper. Their childish and sweet expressions disappeared, their voices got deeper, their limbs longer. 

 

And he hadn’t been there to witness it. 

 

They started high school, probably experienced their first loves, looked at their bodies changing, went through so many hardships and he hadn’t been there. Their older brother, the person who should have guided them, hadn’t been there. 

 

“I missed you— so much” Chanyeol just hugged them, crying as all those years they spent apart passed right in front of his eyes. 

 

Baekhyun let his hand fall, giving them space as he stared at the scene in front of him with a pierced heart. 

 

They used to do that too. 

 

He and his two brothers, hugging each other before Junmyeon left for work. 

 

But destiny and war decided to take that away from him. 

 

“Let’s go inside, I’ll prepare some hot chocolate for everyone — you’ll get sick like this” Chanyeol’s grandfather was still drying some tears with the sleeve of his green sweater and then turned to Baekhyun. “Come with us, son. I just baked a pie”. 

 

Baekhyun felt Chanyeol’s hand slip through his fingers. He looked at him, face flushed and still wet with tears, but with a serene smile shining so bright. 

 

“Come” he said, with that sweet voice of his that made Baekhyun’s heart tremble. 

 

The smaller didn’t even have the time to refuse, because Chanyeol just dragged him inside, gently caressing his hand with one thumb, sending shivers through Baekhyun’s spine. A storm of singing birds started to rage in his stomach as Chanyeol smiled at him, finally looking like he was at peace. 

 

The house smelled like apple pie and Chanyeol still remembered how good they tasted whenever his grandpa made them. One time, he shared one with Baekhyun. They were still in high school and Baekhyun decided that he would spend all his lunch breaks with Chanyeol. That day, they were talking about the _Vulpus Zerda_ , the fox of the desert, and the taller divided the slice into smaller pieces, feeding Baekhyun with one hand as his explanation proceeded. 

 

Before leaving for the front, that same morning, the old man baked one too and saved a slice for his child, rolling it up in a napkin. It felt warm in Chanyeol’s hands, contrasting the cold that enveloped the city and his own heart. 

 

“Hyung! It’s your favorite right? I bet you haven’t eaten this well in a while!” Sehun looked so excited, with his hair dishevelled and his cramped shirt, while Jongin was as perfect as Chanyeol remembered, meticulously ironed sweater and lacquered head. They were such different and unique individuals despite being twins, almost contrasting opposites. But whenever Chanyeol found them sleeping on the same bed with their heads touching, he always realised how similar they actually were. 

 

“Did you know that we started high school? It’s so cool, Hyung, my grades are perfect! While Sehun’s—“ Jongin exclaimed, waiting for his brother and Baekhyun to sit around the kitchen table as their grandpa cut the cake. 

 

“At least I have a girlfriend, _Nini Panini!”_ Sehun answered back, munching on his piece of pie and sitting with his knees on the chair. Chanyeol and Baekhyun received their cake and started to take some bites, still holding hands without even realising. “She’s so pretty, Hyung! Her name is Helen! We should go on double dates with you and Baekhyun-hyung!” 

 

And like that, Chanyeol and Baekhyun risked to choke in unison. 

 

“Sehun! W—what are you saying!” Chanyeol’s eyes were wide. “W—we aren’t a—a couple…” 

 

“But, Hyung, you’ve been holding hands with him since you—“ 

 

“That’s enough, Sehun!” Jongin hissed, throwing his brother a severe glance as Baekhyun lightly chuckled next to him, hand never leaving Chanyeol’s despite the latter’s embarrassment plastered on his crimson red face. 

 

“B—but they—“ 

 

“Sehun” the twin side eyed the other with a knowing look. 

 

Chanyeol was trying to calm himself down, patting his cheek with one free hand, hoping for the redness to disappear. Baekhyun just stared at him, gently caressing his hand, because he just looked too adorable to be real. His pointy ears were shining in red and he couldn’t help but chuckle softly again when he noticed how Chanyeol was fidgeting with his free hand: fixing the collar of his sweater, smoothing out invisible creases from his trousers or scratching his nose. Baekhyun could hear the brothers’ grandfather talking about the twins’ first days of school, how much trouble Sehun caused or that one time Jongin had to accompany the other to the principal’s office, but everything almost disappeared as he continued to look at his _love_. 

 

Oh, how much he wanted to kiss him right there. 

 

“Grandpa, where’s Darwin?” 

 

At that, the old man and the kids’ eyes changed. 

 

They got darker. 

 

“ _Oh_ , son…” the man couldn’t even look at Chanyeol and Baekhyun felt the other’s hand freezing. “Darwin…he died more than three years ago, my child”. 

 

Chanyeol’s eyes suddenly got lost into the void again. 

 

“We tried to give him as much love as we could but he was already so old, son. When you disappeared…his light just extinguished”. 

 

Baekhyun didn’t know and cursed at himself, because, maybe, he could have done something. He still remembered how Chanyeol’s eyes shined with proudness the first time he let him meet Darwin. “ _My first forever friend”_ , that’s how he called him. The little creature used to accompany all their afternoons together, licking his paws while he rested on Chanyeol’s lap or asking for caresses from both of them. The soldier didn’t care about how everyone else seemed to consider him disgusting because, for him, he was one of the most precious things his life ever gifted him with. The only one who had always been there, whenever the other kids didn’t want him, whenever he was lonely, whenever he felt like everyone else hated him. 

 

When his mom and dad died. 

 

There had always been Darwin, even before Baekhyun, comforting him with gentle licks and a kind of love that didn’t need words. 

 

But he lost him, too. 

 

“Did you—“ Chanyeol couldn’t even talk. “Did you b—bury him?”. 

 

They all nodded. 

 

“Are his things—still in my room?”

 

“Yes, my child, we kept them. You can go, if you want”. 

 

It took a while for him to move but Baekhyun could feel the other’s hold on his hand loosening every second that passed. Chanyeol stood there for minutes, as silence invaded the room. It sounded defeating. Those eyes that seemed to have regained their colour for a moment turned grey again and Baekhyun couldn’t stand it. He hated himself because he couldn’t do anything to lessen his pain, to make that void feel full again, to stop the darkness from eating all his light once again. 

 

Baekhyun stood there, looking at the love of his life shedding just one, single tear. 

 

“Do you want me to come with you, Chanyeol-ah?” 

 

He nodded. 

 

Baekhyun stood up, taking the other with him and climbing the stairs. The last time they did that, they were happy. They just came back from the movie theatre where they watched “ _Here Comes Mr. Jordan”_ and Baekhyun was so good at imitating Robert Montgomery that none of them could stop laughing.

 

But that time, everything was different. 

 

Chanyeol felt like a dead corpse. He stumbled more than one time and his eyes were still lost somewhere Baekhyun couldn’t reach. When the door to Chanyeol’s old room came into sight, the smaller stopped and turned to the other, reaching for his cheeks. Baekhyun got nearer and locked their eyes together, trying to find some ashes of that faint light, but there were only some tears threatening to fall. He kissed him, on the cheek, but made it last as long as he could, to make Chanyeol remember that he was there and would always be. The soldier leaned on his lips and looked at him for a while, before reaching the door knob with his hand. 

 

His room still looked the same.

 

It was as if nothing had changed.

 

Except, it did. 

 

Darwin’s cage was still on the drawer, under the window, because Chanyeol always wanted his friend to be able to look at the world outside when they weren’t together. The tall man walked and reached it, kneeling in front of Darwin’s old house the same way he did whenever he came back from school, just to say “ _hi, Darwin!”_. 

 

But Darwin wasn’t there anymore. 

 

War made soldiers forget about time passing because every day was just the same. That constant repetition of events where death became ordinary. Bombs falling, corpse exploding, companions dying, blood flowing. Time was stuck on the battleground, where clocks became useless and the sound of mortars shooting beat the seconds. 

 

But time passed outside. 

 

It flooded endlessly, mercilessly. 

 

“H—hi, Darwin” 

 

Baekhyun’s heart broke. 

 

Chanyeol was breaking, falling into the darkness right in front of him and he couldn’t help it but let some tears fall along with his. His love was standing on his knees, one hand on the cage, looking so much like a frail, helpless child who just lost his best friend. The war took his last drops of innocence away, while destiny ripped of the last link he had with his unbroken self. 

 

Right there, Baekhyun realised. 

 

The love of his life was alive but buried under all that pain, barely breathing while trying to not drown. _His_ Chanyeol was right in front of him, but he was just the shell of that peculiar boy he fell in love with. But he was still there, he could feel him, behind all those horrors that haunted his mind and now it was his own time to fight, to get the real Chanyeol back. 

 

“B—Baekhyun-ah” 

 

It was barely a whisper. Chanyeol didn’t even turn his head toward him but Baekhyun could see the tears flowing from his eyes. The smaller walked toward him and in a matter of seconds he found himself being wrapped by two arms that felt so much stronger than the ones he used to know. The soldier wasn’t even standing, he just hugged his lower half, pressing his ear on Baekhyun’s stomach. 

 

But Chanyeol wasn’t just holding him, he was hanging on his body as if it was his last chance to stay afloat and survive.

 

“P—please, Baekhyun-ah” he said again. “Don’t—don’t ever leave me. Not you too”. 

 

Baekhyun held him back, gently caressing the other’s hair with one hand. 

 

“I’m scared”

 

And Baekhyun would have taken it, he would have taken all that pain and made it his, to set him finally free. 

 

“If the fire doesn’t burn out, the rain will wash it away, Chanyeol-ah” the smaller kneeled down, facing the man that was finally looking at him. Those eyes were broken, shattered, but there was a faint light breaking through the chipping. “Let me be your rain”. 

 

They stared at each other for endless seconds as the snow kept falling outside. Baekhyun just caressed his face, breathing his scent in, bathing in that warm feeling that was enveloping his whole being. Chanyeol was looking at him like the first sun after a night of storm, that light that is able to dissipate the darkness and free the sky. 

 

_“Let me be your rain”._

 

Oh, how sweet that sounded. Baekhyun was his summer storm, the sun rays peeking from the curtains, the fire losing its sparks in the night sky, the thunders that shook the earth beneath his feet, the snowflakes that gently let themselves fall from those grey clouds, the waves that shattered against the shore. Baekhyun was the moon, the sun and all their stars, he was the bluebird standing outside of the battleground as the only reminder of how beautiful the world looked outside. The hymn of peace and freedom that spread its wings toward a sky tinted with blood. 

 

Baekhyun was his little, yellow flower growing on that earth battered by the bombs. 

 

“Baekhyun-ah” he said, reaching for the dried flower in his pocket. “Isn’t it your turn to fulfil our promise?” 

 

And he was right, because Baekhyun was ready. He was ready to give Chanyeol his all: his heart, soul, love and life. Baekhyun had been ready since that weird and lanky kid fell from his bike right in front of his parents’ shop, turning his whole world upside down with just one embarrassed smile. His heart had always been his: that peculiar boy who only called animals by their scientific names, who spent his summer nights looking at the stars and fumbled too much with his soft hands. That boy who didn’t appreciate himself enough, who believed that there was nothing about him worth of being loved. That boy who deserved all those sweet nothings whispered into his ears and to be called _beautiful_ every day, because Baekhyun loved everything Chanyeol was. 

 

“Acacia flowers mean _secret love_ , Chanyeol-ah” he whispered, letting one tear go as he stared at the other’s shocked expression. “Because the little florist had fallen in love with that guy, the clumsy boy that fell from his bike right in front of him—and never stopped loving him”. 

 

Suddenly, their lips met, creating the sweetest melody the world had ever heard. 

 

It was birds singing, melting snow, roses unfolding, the dawn whitening behind the stark shape of trees on the quivering summit of the hill. They weren’t drowning, but breathing underwater, savouring each other’s taste after all those years of waiting. Bombs stopped falling, mortars ceased their shooting, death closed its doors. That kiss they shared was everything that stood after a dark night, when morning came and the sun shined on the battleground, announcing peace. Because Chanyeol felt finally free, for that fleeting moment of bliss, leaving his shattered self behind to fall in the arms of his one and only love. 

 

Baekhyun was caressing the back of his head, pressing his lips on Chanyeol’s with all the love he had to gift him. Their lips locked and moved in unison, getting their breaths mixed, making them _one_. Chanyeol was almost scared to touch him and make him disappear, afraid that it was just another one of his dreams, but when he opened his eyes for a second, Baekhyun was still there, as beautiful as ever. 

 

When they couldn’t take it anymore, the two let their lips part, but their hearts were still connected. Baekhyun stared at him again, finally looking at the other smiling wide as his cheeks were coloured in red. 

 

“You look so beautiful right now”.

 

“M—me?” 

 

Baekhyun chuckled. “Who else?” 

 

Chanyeol’s face betrayed disbelief and Baekhyun still couldn’t understand how he didn’t realise how breathtaking he was. 

 

“But I’m not…beautiful” he said, lowering his gaze. “I’m disgusting, Baekhyun-ah. Look at all these wounds, bruises, scars. I’m not even able to walk properly nor feel you with one of my hands. How could this be considered _beautiful_? You…you deserve better than this” 

 

“What’s beautiful is everything you are, Chanyeol” Baekhyun gently pushed the other’s head up again, locking their eyes together. “I don’t care if your face and body are covered with scars, if your hand and leg are permanently damaged. You’re so beautiful and you don’t even realise. Don’t ever think that I deserve better, Chanyeol, because you’re everything I wanted and will ever want”. 

 

Chanyeol could feel his heart drop and explode inside of his chest. Baekhyun was looking at him like the first time their eyes met: utmost sincerity had been poured into them, making those mirrors shine like sun rays during the warmest day of summer. The other was caressing his face like he was made of glass, treasuring it and staring at him as if he was the miracle he had always been waiting for. Chanyeol could feel his heart running and its steps were resounding in this whole ribcage. 

 

“I love you, Chanyeol” 

 

Like that, he just kissed him again, again and again. 

 

And Chanyeol couldn’t answer. His lips had been trapped, but his heart was screaming for him. 

 

_I love you too, Baekhyun._

 

◉

 

 

Chapter II

**_What the Bluebird told the Moon_ **

 

 

Chanyeol and Baekhyun met again in November, 1936. 

 

The Roger C. Sullivan High had just opened its doors to the new freshmen and Chanyeol was one of them. A mass of new students filled the corridors that day and the tall, lanky teenager hugging some books close to his chest was being pushed left and right while walking with his head low. 

 

It had only been two months, but high school had already transformed into an a piece of Hell on Earth for Chanyeol. 

 

As soon as the first week passed, people already started to talk about him. Why is he always alone? They started to ask but when they didn’t get answers, they started to make up facts. They called him“ _outcast_ ”, “ _depressed_ ”, “ _ill_ ”, “ _orphan_ ”. When they found out about those zoology books he used to read between classes, they started to make fun of him and call him “ _stinky_ ” because he lived with a “ _rat_ ”. Some boys in his class took him as their favorite victim and found it so funny to harass him, laugh at him whenever he walked by the classroom’s door and push him to the ground if they met him in the hallways. 

 

Everyone else just watched, as if he was the major attraction of an ambulant circus. 

 

Chanyeol spent all his lunch breaks alone, out in the gardens, seated behind the tall tree while munching on the sandwich his grandpa made him every morning. Every day he would come back to the old man asking how his day went and he just faked a smile, assuring him that high school was going perfectly and that he was happy. 

 

At night, he would cry himself to sleep. 

 

One day, Chanyeol was seating on the cold ground, looking at people passing by, when something caught his attention. 

 

_Baekhyun?_

 

The young florist Chanyeol could never forget was right in front of him but wrapped around his waist were the arms of one of those boys that haunted him everyday. _Paul Hampsten_ , that was the name of the Devil that was trying to taunt his Angel. Baekhyun was talking with three boys, but the other was standing _too close_ , subtly caressing his waist in a way that made Chanyeol’s stomach writhe. He felt the need to stand up and run, away from him, away from the shame he felt for who he was. If everyone knew about what people said about him, then Baekhyun probably knew too, right? Wouldn’t he be disgusted by him? He couldn’t have taken it, the expression of rejection and contempt on that beautiful face, looking at him like the outcast he was. 

 

But as soon as his feet took the first step, he heard his name being called by that same voice he loved and feared at the same time. 

 

_“Chanyeol? Oh Lord, is it really you?”_ Chanyeol didn’t even turn his head to him, he just stood there, almost lifeless, but he could hear the other’s steps coming closer. _“It’s me, Baekhyun! The one from the flower shop!”_

 

Oh, how could he have forgotten about him? 

 

_“Baekhyun, did you just talk to that freak?”_

 

Chanyeol lowered his head, ashamed. He hoped for the ground to eat him alive and bury his corpse under layers and layers of rocks. 

 

_“What are you talking about?”_ Baekhyun said, voice so angry that surprised the taller. _“He’s my friend!”_

 

_“Are you being serious, right now?”_ Paul laughed so mockingly, approaching the tall boy who still wasn’t facing their way and grabbing his wrist until their eyes locked. _“Look at him, this bare excuse of a man, he can’t even defend himself. He just cries alone, probably asking for his mommy”._

 

Chanyeol’s eyes started to water and his body stung as Paul’s words burnt against his skin, consuming his body as the other boys laughs reached his ears. 

 

_“What’s wrong, freak? Do you want to call you mom?”_ and then: _“Oh, right! Your mom is just a pile of ashes in a jar, isn’t it? And your daddy too”_

 

The sound of a slap resonated in the suddenly silent air. 

 

_“Don’t you even dare”_ Baekhyun breathed heavily. _“Don’t you even dare repeat that again”._

 

The tall boy turned his head, finally looking at Baekhyun for the first time that day. His eyes were wide open, almost injected with blood, as he stared at the bully. Chanyeol could see his chest moving heavily at every breath, a sign that he was clearly containing his furious range on the school ground. 

 

_“You’re choosing Him”_ he emphasised the last word. _“Over Me? Have you gone mad, Baekhyun? He’s an outcast who doesn’t even talk and spends all his time alone reading stupid books about bullshits. He’s probably even depressed, a psychopath or, worse, gay”_

 

It hurt. 

 

It hurt like a knife slicing every fiber of his body. 

 

_“Oh, is that so?”_ Baekhyun giggled darkly. _“Funny for you to say that, considering the way you tried to grab my ass and kiss me during Brianna Edward’s party, last night”_

 

Paul’s eyes changed. 

 

_“It would be such a scoop if the whole school knew, right Paul?”_

 

Baekhyun’s face was tinted with mischief as his posture straightened, making him look so powerful in that stance. Paul completely stopped as his friends started to back away from him. 

 

_“I—I’m not gay!”_ he stuttered, searching for his friends’ eyes. _“I’m not!”_

 

_“Curious, that looked pretty gay to me, Paul”_ Baekhyun knew he had the upper hand. _“And for your friends too, considering how surprised they looked”._

 

Chanyeol stared at him, tears drying on his face, and his heart run even more wildly. It was a side of Baekhyun he didn’t knew yet and he couldn’t help but feel the need to get to know more, if not _everything_ , about the boy that stole his heart and didn’t want to give it back. He was small, with eyes so sweet and kind that looked as precious as a lily’s petal, but he was strong, manly, powerful. 

 

Everything Chanyeol wasn’t. 

 

_“Y—you would never do that to me, Baek”_ Paul stammered. _“I need to be accepted in the Army, Baek, y—you can’t”_

 

_“Leave Chanyeol alone and it will die with me”_ he stopped for a second as he looked at Chanyeol. _“Maybe”._

 

Baekhyun took the taller’s hand and caged it in his, smiling widely and so kindly at the boy, just like the first time. 

 

Chanyeol couldn’t help but fall for him even harder. 

 

_“And don’t you even dare to touch me again”._

 

After that day, Baekhyun spent all his lunch breaks with Chanyeol, seated under the tall tree and listening to him talk about every animal species he could think of. He waited for him outside of the other’s classroom, running as fast as he could to surprise Chanyeol as soon as he walked out of the door, just to accompany him along the corridors. As Chanyeol soon discovered, Baekhyun was already quite popular despite being only a freshman. He was a part of the Student Council and the nicest person Chanyeol had ever met. H aced all the subjects and was absolutely _beautiful._

 

Sadly, Chanyeol wasn’t the only one who noticed how breathtaking the boy was. 

 

Every time they walked down the hallways, he could see how everyone seemed to be looking at Baekhyun, boys and girls alike. Some looked at him with admiration but some of them had only lust in their eyes: they wanted him and Chanyeol couldn’t help but feel jealousy raising inside his chest like a burning flame. 

 

Time passed and, during their second year, Baekhyun had been elected as the President of the Student Council. Chanyeol stayed by his side, looking at all those people confessing to Baekhyun every day, no matter how much it hurt. Baekhyun was a star, shining so brightly above everyone else, while Chanyeol saw himself as a mere rock everyone stepped on while walking. 

 

But, little did he know, that Baekhyun didn’t care about anyone other than the amazingly peculiar boy he had next to him. He rejected all of them in the hope that, one day, he and Chanyeol would be together. 

 

And after so many years, their dream finally came true on a snowy day of January, in 1946. 

 

 

◉

 

 

“W—Would you” Chanyeol stuttered. “W—would you like to…stay for the night?”

 

Baekhyun looked at Chanyeol. His hair was still a mess because of how hard had Baekhyun tugged it while those red, plump lips looked even softer, slightly opened like a rose bud during the outskirts of Spring. Baekhyun took a while to admire him, a wave of proudness suddenly clenching his stomach as he stared at what he had done, as if Chanyeol were his own painting. 

 

“Why are you being this shy for, Chanyeol?” he laughed, gently reaching for the other’s hair in the attempt of fixing it. “We kissed for at least thirty minutes and I just told you that I’ve loved you for almost ten years. Shouldn’t I be the embarrassed one?”. 

 

The tall soldier hid his face in the palms of his hands, crouching on the floor. 

 

“I—“ he paused. “ _I—love you too_ ”

 

Baekhyun knew that already. He felt it in the way Chanyeol kissed his lips and treasured his body with his tender hands, touching him as if he were the most precious diamond. Hearing those words being pronounced out loud though, despite that shyly, made his heart implode. 

 

And he just kissed him again. 

 

“I love you” another kiss, but on Chanyeol’s nose instead. “And I’d love to stay, if it’s okay with you”. 

 

The other lowered his head but Baekhyun could see him smiling through his red cheeks. Baekhyun let his lips touch Chanyeol’s cheeks and it was so addicting to be finally able to kiss him, without the need to restrain himself in the fear of being rejected. Chanyeol was looking at him as if he had painted the sky, as if he had drawn the stars above them that night and Baekhyun could not help but kiss him for a thousand times. Suddenly, the taller reached for his hand and pulled him, making him stand up from his crouched position, and gently accompanied him to his bed. Baekhyun knew what he was trying to ask him through his shy, lowered eyes and he just complied, making himself comfortable under the covers and opening his arms wide, waiting for Chanyeol to reach him. He did it, timidly tucking himself under the blanket and between Baekhyun’s arms. 

 

And it suddenly felt like _home_. 

 

Baekhyun sighed happily. “My _boyfriend_ is so warm”. 

 

“ _B—Boyfriend?”_

 

“You…you don’t like it?” For the first time, Chanyeol could read insecurity in Baekhyun’s eyes. 

 

The soldier smiled with flushed cheeks. “I like it very much”. 

 

A new kiss. So slow, sweet and delicate, as warm and familiar as his favorite pie. Chanyeol was looking at Baekhyun standing so close to him, one of his arms holding his waist tightly, and it felt so right and impossible at the same time. The boy everyone loved, the one the whole student body admired and longed for, the council president that made guys and girls’ hearts tremble with just one smile fell for the weird, lonely boy sitting alone near the tree. Was he really worth it? Was he enough? Despite the happiness, Chanyeol still didn’t understand. He just stood there, admiring the moon light caressing Baekhyun’s traits as if the sky itself was missing his most beautiful creation. With tears stained eyes, Chanyeol found the courage to touch him again, reaching for his face with delicate fingers. 

 

“I can’t believe you’re really here” Baekhyun spoke. “You know…there was a time, when they announced the Armistice and you still didn’t come back, when I really thought I lost you forever. I almost…gave up. Gave up hoping, gave up saving all those flowers for you, gave up writing letters…gave up looking out of the shop’s windows waiting for you to come through that door”. 

 

It stung. It stung, burned so hard that his wounds came alive again, making the pain deeper and stronger. 

 

“I’m so—so sorry”. he stuttered. “I spent eight months in a hospital, in Germany, Hoppegarten. I…I had deep injuries on my whole body and my insides were haunted by so many diseases—I couldn’t even stand up on my own feet”. 

 

Chanyeol remembers how that felt. The silence that surrounded him was louder than any scream and the white walls of the hospital felt suffocating. At night, he couldn’t sleep. During the day, he couldn’t eat. Next to him stood other soldiers and none of them could move: some had amputated limbs, some were missing one or both eyes, some others were just waiting for death to come. Chanyeol stood on his bed, looking at doctors passing by with worried but accustomed faces, confirming the death of another young soldier. 

 

Most of them died during the night. 

 

Chanyeol saw them being carried outside of the room still in their beds but, the morning after, they came back empty. He kept on fighting everyday, for Baekhyun, for his family, for his own young self he left back in Chicago, but it was so hard when he could smell the odor of death all around him. 

 

After six months, the doctors almost gave up on him. The wounds weren’t healing properly, his hand and leg were dead, different illnesses were eating him alive. 

 

But if there was something the war thought him, it was to fight for his life and, like that, the soldier won the hardest of battles. 

 

“I couldn’t—I couldn’t come back to you like that” Chanyeol smiled, even if bitterly. “You deserved better than a colander with malfunctioning limbs”. 

 

“Don’t ever forget“ Baekhyun paused, caging Chanyeol’s face in his arms. “That I don’t care how many wounds you have, which nightmares still haunt you, what fears now scare you…I love you, scares or not.” 

 

He kissed him. 

 

“If you won’t be able to walk anymore, I’ll support you. If your hands can’t touch me, I’ll make you feel my skin again” one tear. “If monsters still visit you, I’ll make sure to scare them away”. 

 

Chanyeol hugged him, holding the other’s body tightly to his chest as the taller hid his nose in his lover’s hair. They fit, like the moon and its stars fit in the night sky. He felt desperate, hanging on Baekhyun’s body as if he was the last floating piece of wood in the sea. 

 

Moments passed like that, as the snow kept falling and the clock soundly marked the seconds. 

 

“What did I miss during those years, Baekhyun-ah?” 

 

Oh, how much and inexorably the time passed. 

 

And with its sliding, it healed but it also _killed._

 

“I—“ 

 

Baekhyun suddenly found it hard to breathe. 

 

“After you left—my father made sure to pass the shop under my property. Being the legal owner of the only source of sustenance for my family, the government couldn’t send me to the Front. Kyungsoo was too young, not even 12, and I prayed my family to leave _White Daffodil_ to Junmyeon, my older brother. But…he refused.” 

 

Chanyeol could see Baekhyun’s eyes getting lost into the void. 

 

“A few weeks later, my friend Yixing left for war too and barely a month after that day, Junmyeon too” he swallowed hard. “Yixing came back a year later, when h—he lost a leg, but Junmyeon—“ 

 

It hit, as fast and unexpected as a bullet shoot from your back. 

 

“ _J—Junmyeon never came back”_

 

Baekhyun, his only light during the hardest times, the only thing that kept him alive, that same boy who smiled so brightly in that picture he used to stare at night was breaking. He was broken already, barely keeping himself together for him and Chanyeol didn’t even notice. Death has no pity, no compassion, it just arrives like a monster in the night and kidnaps its victims. It comes and goes, spinning a wheel and hitting the board with random darts, choosing among millions of names. 

 

And Junmyeon was one of them. 

 

One of those bodies he saw lying on the ground, barely recognisable as human beings. Those corpses floating in blood, murdered for a country that considered them as a mere number. 

 

“H—he used to send us letters” Baekhyun said, this time being the one clutching Chanyeol’s body. “O—one day, t—they just stopped coming. Before we…before we even realised, a man came t—to our door a—and…and told us Junmyeon h—had been k—killed in Normandy.”

 

Chanyeol used to think of the battleground as the only place where a constant battle took place but, in that moment, seeing Baekhyun so broken while hugging him, he understood that he had always been wrong. The world outside was a constant fight against a different enemy, a much more subtle and cruel one. Baekhyun was shaking, hiding his face in Chanyeol’s chest, resembling so much that little, wounded bluebird he found in the snow: fragile, deprived of his own wings, scared, lonely. 

 

Chanyeol held the other’s body even tighter, wetting his soft sweater with one falling tear. 

 

Just like that promise he made all those years ago, he would have protected and cured the little bird. 

 

_His bluebird._

 

“I’m never gonna leave you alone again” Chanyeol whispered, hiding in Baekhyun’s neck. “ _Never again”._

 

Baekhyun still remembered those days, he had them engraved on his skin. 

 

That day, when the faceless man came and he felt the world crumbling around him. Everything was suddenly in slow motion, the sounds muffled as his brain shut down, refusing to believe in such words, because _no_ , it couldn’t be true. It could have been the old lady next door losing his only nephew. It could have been that beautiful lady they saw passing by every day waiting for his husband. It could have been Mrs Smith getting that same news about his loved younger son. 

 

It could have been everyone, but it happened to them. 

 

It was Junmyeon, their son and brother, perishing under mankind’s selfishness. 

 

He saw his mother falling to ground while screaming, his younger brother breaking down into tears, his father slamming the door after that man left.

 

Baekhyun didn’t cry, scream nor maddened. He was just numb, floating somewhere else. For the weeks that followed, it almost felt like nothing happened, like it was just some kind of nightmare, but when they found his corpse and brought it back home, everything hit him again. 

 

Suddenly, he was back in front of that man, hearing those words that didn’t seem to make sense. 

 

It happened to them. 

 

It was real. 

 

Junmyeon was _dead_. 

 

Junmyeon, who blew raspberries in his tummy when Baekhyun was sad, who helped Kyungsoo with multiplications on Sunday mornings and took them to _Carl’s Jr_ every Friday evening. His own brother that dreamed of being a surgeon and had been admitted to college barely two years before that day, the same man who was planning to marry his girlfriend after his studies, whoused to promise a _forever_ to his siblings, was _dead_.

 

Junmyeon was the first who knew about Baekhyun’s sexuality. 

 

When he felt like a _freak,_ a _sin_ , a _deseased_ , Junmyeon was there to prove him wrong and make him understand how love had no boundaries. In his arms, everything felt right again. 

 

But he wasn’t there anymore. 

 

Junmyeon was _dead._

 

_“_ I—I know I’ll never be able to replace him, no one ever will” Chanyeol whispered again, shyly kissing the other’s forehead. “But I want you to know that I’ll always try to protect you…like he did”. 

 

“I’m sure you will” Baekhyun looked at him, smiling faintly. “And I’m going to do the same, Yeol-ah”. 

 

Outside, the moon already took its place in the sky, accompanied by a thousands of stars. Everything glistened under the moonbeam, covered in a white layer of snow. The clock marked three minutes to midnight and the two were still there, huddled up beneath the tick blanket of Chanyeol’s childhood’s bed, finally smiling together. 

 

Baekhyun was telling him about everything that happened in the neighbourhood while he was gone, making sure to not forget even the smallest detail. As the soldier learned, Mrs. Marquez, the heartbreaker of South Chicago, cheated on her husband with Mr. Evans, the handsome young man next door, and then there was the old lady from the make up shop, who just got married for the second time after losing her first husband or Baekhyun’s ex classmate, who used to be the straightest girl-player and had been caught kissing a really cute freshman during a confraternity party. Chanyeol didn’t even know half of those people but he didn’t care, because listening to Baekhyun talking so lightly while he lied on his chest made him happy. 

 

“And that poor girl, Melanie! She literally discovered her boyfriend was gay when the whole campus started talking about that party” he said. “I can’t really blame him, though. That boy was _really_ cute”. 

 

Chanyeol suddenly stood up, pouting and enraging his eyebrows. 

 

“What?” Baekhyun giggled, drawing the taller to him again. “Come on, don’t be jealous! You’re obviously _way_ cuter, _Yeorie_. I scored the _cutest_ one”. 

 

“Y—you’ve always been very popular in school…you could have had all the boys you wanted” 

 

“Maybe, but I’ve always wanted you so I don’t want any other guy” and he kissed him on the forehead again. “Which makes me think! One of my best friends, Minseok, is hosting one of his parties in a club downtown, tomorrow night. Would you come with me? I’d love to introduce you to my friends and it could also be…our first official date” 

 

Baekhyun could see Chanyeol’s pondering expression as he gently swiped some hair from his eyes. He knew the other never liked parties, nor crowded places, but he always dreamed to doll up and dance with him. Whenever he and his friends went there, he always, looked jealousy at those few couples passionately kissing on the dance floor and, for years, he always imagined himself with Chanyeol. 

 

“You—you don’t have to come if you don’t feel comfortable enough! I just thought it would be fun to…you know…dance together and—and—maybe kiss with some romantic music playing in the background?” Baekhyun was blushing and Chanyeol couldn’t help but redden on his cheeks too. “B-but I don’t want to force you! I—” 

 

“I’ll come” he smiled. “I really want to”. 

 

Then, they kissed, and the moon above them smiled. 

 

 

◉

 

 

As the sun came, the two were still tangled. 

 

Baekhyun was hugging Chanyeol to his chest even in his sleep, almost as if, in his nightmares, someone tried to take his love away from him again. Some sun rays were illuminating the room through the white curtains, kissing the two lovers with utmost delicacy. They spent the whole night talking, kissing while hands wandered occasionally, touching and feeling each other for the first time, almost exploring their bodies and curves. But no matter how peaceful the world finally felt, Baekhyun had to leave Chanyeol alone as soon as that sun rose. He kissed him on the forehead, hoping to not wake the tired soldier up, as he fixed his clothes and hair, leaving to reach the shop. 

 

When Chanyeol woke up, he turned and turned in his bed, eyes still closed, searching for that heat that was suddenly missing. He suddenly stopped, slowly opening his eyes and looking at the white ceiling above his head, thinking about the night that just passed. Baekhyun’s taste was still vivid and strong on his lips and he just touched them, remembering how it all felt when they spent hours just kissing each other with no care of the world outside. Chanyeol could hear his brothers running around the first floor of the house or his grandfather fumbling with some cooking pans, probably trying to fry some toasts for their afternoon snack, but everything sounded muffled by all those thoughts floating in his head. The first being the party that was going to take place that same night, his first official date with Baekhyun.

 

Or, better, his first date _ever._

 

Chanyeol stood up, taking his cramped glasses from the bedside table and walking towards the full length mirror.

 

But everything he saw was a _disgusting_ and _destroyed_ boy, who just looked _lost_ and _meaningless._ His eyes traced his face, _wounds_ , torso, _scars_ , hands and _malfunctioning_ , slightly bent legs. Chanyeol felt invisible, useless, like some kind of ghost wandering without a purpose. Why would Baekhyun love him? How could he find him _so beautiful,_ as he said, when everything he could see in that mirror was _nothing?_ Because he felt like that, like _nothing_ , as if his existence wasn’t worthy of that world and Baekhyun. He felt like he deserved to be ignored, passed by. His ears were too big, his eyes too round behind the thick lenses, his legs too bent, his body too long and marked by all those horrors his country was trying to forget. Chanyeol tried to turn around, slightly touching his body in different places, but he hated it. 

 

He hated _himself_. 

 

It was hard to look at that reflection, to look at something he started to hate so passionately from the first moment he saw himself at the hospital. And it’s so, so much harder when the thing you hate the most is your own self. 

 

Chanyeol thought about all those times Baekhyun attended those kind of parties, about all those attractive men that must have looked at him, wanting him and his body, and he felt sick. His most fashionable clothes were old sweaters his father left him, the hair on his head looked worse than a nest made of sticks and mud and he couldn’t even walk properly anymore, let alone even just follow the music with his body. Chanyeol felt like a _freak, a disgrace, a disappointment._

 

_“You look so beautiful right now”_

 

He wanted to laugh, laugh out loud, because he tried so bad to believe in those words, but everything he saw in that mirror was too far from being _beautiful._

 

Chanyeol left his room, walking towards the kitchen where his grandfather was still cooking some toasts, while his brothers were already munching on their snacks. He ruffled both of their heads, forcing a small smile when they looked at him with such bright eyes. 

 

“Good afternoon, Hyung!” they exclaimed in unison. 

 

“Good afternoon, sleepy heads” he replied. “Slept well last night?” 

 

“Super well!” Sehun said, still chewing. “But I bet no one slept better than you, Hyung. Is Baekhyun-hyung comfy? He even smells good”. 

 

Chanyeol chocked. 

 

Again. 

 

“Stop making your older brother risk his life, it’s already the second time in barely a day, Sehun”. the old man arrived with still steaming toasts, serving two to Chanyeol’s plate. 

 

“Grandpa?” 

 

“Yes, son?”

 

“Could you—-Could you lend me some money?” Chanyeol asked hesitantly, fumbling with his hands under the table. “There’s—there’s a party tonight and Baekhyun asked me to go with him but…I have nothing to wear. I promise you I’ll find myself a job soon and I’ll repay you, but I…I really need it”. 

 

The grandfather just smiled, sweetly, kissing the boy’s hair for a brief moment, before reaching for a jar hidden in the cupboard. Chanyeol could see some dollars behind the transparent surface and, when he saw the man taking out a few, a veil of shame enveloped his heart. 

 

But what could he do? 

 

He wanted Baekhyun to look at him with a bright and loving gaze, feeling proud to call him _his._ Because Chanyeol wanted to scream it from all the rooftops of Chicago, he wished to declare his love as everyone else listened. He knew he couldn’t but, at least for that night, he wanted to show the world how lucky he was to hold Baekhyun’s heart in his hands. 

 

“Here, Chanyeol. Take them and consider this as a gift” he said while he gently patted his grandson’s head. 

 

“B—but grandpa—“ 

 

“Shush! It’s already late and I need to take these troublesome boys to shop for some new shoes, no time for arguments now!” the gentle pat transformed into a light smack as the man collected the twins’ bags and ushered them to the door, as they both screamed a loud “ _see you later, Hyung!”_. 

 

Chanyeol was left alone, the room suddenly silent around him, as he held the dollar bills on the palms of his hands. With the sleeve of his shirt he tried to dry some tears that were already falling down his lowered face and got up from the chair, reaching for the door, opening it.

 

He suddenly stopped. 

 

There he stood, right in front of his house. 

_Baekhyun._

 

_“_ Hey, Chanyeol!” he chirped. 

 

“B—Baekhyun? What are you doing here, we—weren’t you at work?” 

 

“Oh? What is this?” Baekhyun asked, visibly giggling as he walked closer and closer to him. “My _boyfriend_ doesn’t want to see my face already?” 

 

Chanyeol shook his head like a child would do, with eyes wide open and hands moving in front of him. “N—no that’s not what—“ 

 

Baekhyun just smiled lovingly, biting his lips and checking his surroundings before leaning in and kissing Chanyeol on the lips. He lingered a bit more as they parted, keeping his hands on the soldier’s cheeks and staring at him from up close, almost entranced. 

 

“The shop is closed this afternoon, so I thought you might need some help to get ready for tonight, even if, I have to honestly admit, this is just the first excuse I found to spend some more with you”. he confessed. 

 

Chanyeol’s eyes were staring at the floor beneath them, clutching the money too tightly in his hands. “I don’t have…anything suitable for tonight. I was going to reach some shops in the centre to look for something appropriate”. 

 

“There’s no need for that, _love”_ he said giggling. “You may not know this yet but I took quite a liking in fashion lately and I’m apparently quite decent at it. We’ll find something in my closet and, I _swear_ , this totally isn’t because I love the idea of you wearing my scent in a place surrounded by thirsty, gay men looking for a hook up”. 

 

“Are…you sure?” 

 

“Totally!” Baekhyun smiled again, quickly pecking Chanyeol’s lips one more time. “I’ll make you look even more handsome! But _aah_ , now that I think of it, men are gonna crawl at your feet and everyone’s eyes are gonna be on you! Do I have to be scared?”. 

 

Oh, how much Chanyeol wanted to deny. Who would look at him when the creature that outshone the sun, the moon, and every starry night stood right beside him? 

 

 

◉

 

 

Half of the afternoon was spent between long kisses and sweet touches while the house around them was quiet. The only audible sound was Nat King Cole’s voice, coming from the record player, singing _I love you for sentimental reasons,_ lightly muffled by the two boys’ laughs. They were sitting on the smaller’s bed this time, with Baekhyun lying his head on Chanyeol’s lap as he proceeded telling him about his endless stories about college, while the sun was starting to set outside. 

 

“Come with me” Baekhyun suddenly said, raising from the other’s legs and offering him his hand. They stood up and walked through the florist’s room, reaching the closet. “I swear I’m gonna make you feel as beautiful as you look through my eyes, _Yeorie”._

 

Chanyeol still couldn’t grasp how someone could love him so dearly to overlook all his flaws, his aching leg, pierced body or trembling hand, and see him as beautiful as Baekhyun did. The taller looked at him rummaging through piles of clothes, with such a serious and frowning expression that made him want to kiss that concentrated pout away. 

 

“These! I’m sure you’ll look perfect in these!” he exclaimed, holding a grey jacket and pants up for Chanyeol to see. “You’re taller than me and these pants were a bit too long for my legs! And—“ 

 

Baekhyun threw the clothes to him, turning his back for a moment to look at the upper part of the wardrobe, where a simple white shirt was in a hanger. He took it, holding it with care and looking at it with a smile that had such a bittersweet feeling. 

 

“This was Junmyeon’s” Baekhyun’s lips curved again but Chanyeol could see his eyes glistening with some tears. “I want you to have it”. 

 

“I can’t accept this, Baekhyun, I—”

 

“He would have loved to meet you” and he neared the other, making the shirt rest between Chanyeol’s hands. “Junmyeon is the first person who knew about _me_ and made me understand that I wasn’t some kind of sin, that my feelings mattered too. He taught me how to listen to my heart despite the whole world telling me how _wrong_ and _dirty_ I may be”. 

 

“No one…no one has the right to decide for you or…tell you how you should be. You aren’t dirty, nor wrong or a sin”. 

 

Baekhyun smiled as a single tear ran down his cheek to wet his lips: “I know now”. Suddenly, he laughed, raising his head to the ceiling while trying to stop his eyes from watering. “I can’t believe he listened to me talking about you for years. Every single time I came back to school I went to him, blabbering about how _dense_ you were while he was trying to study for his exams”. 

 

“Hey! I wasn’t dense!” Chanyeol exclaimed, his pride a bit hurt, as he fixed his glasses on the nose. 

 

“I tried to flirt with you but you never responded! I kept calling you _handsome_ , hinting about us going on _real_ dates or making you jealous on purpose! I even gifted you different flowers every single time we met Chanyeol-ah, but you never gave me any sign!” he shifted on the bed while talking, his expression sweetening. “Junmyeon used to tell me that there was _no way_ you wouldn’t like me”. 

 

He smiled, “Well…he was right”. 

 

“Okay, now _you_ are the one who’s flirting, adulator!” Baekhyun laughed, hitting Chanyeol on his chest. “It’s time to get ready, you flirt. Let’s get changed, then I’ll fix your hair and give your pretty face some make up”.

 

Chanyeol held the white shirt to his chest, suddenly feeling _naked_. The thought of Baekhyun seeing him _entirely_ scared him: he couldn’t let him see that destroyed shell he used to call “body”. Suddenly, it felt like a chrysalid, lifeless, empty, shattered and his butterfly wings were trapped. 

 

He was ashamed of his own self. 

 

The soldier didn’t move but just kept staring at his feet, fidgeting with his fingers as he still held the shirt. 

 

He couldn't feel his eyes on him but Baekhyun already knew

 

“I’m gonna use the bathroom, you can change here”. 

 

Chanyeol just looked at him taking his own clothes out of the closet before reaching for his face and planting a sweet, lingering kiss on his forehead. 

 

And as he left the room, Chanyeol thought about all the reasons why he didn’t deserve him. 

 

 

◉

 

 

“Chanyeol? Can I come in?” 

 

Baekhyun asked from behind the door. Approximately thirty minutes passed and Chanyeol was still in there, making no sounds, and Baekhyun knew. He read it in Chanyeol’s eyes. Baekhyun noticed how the other kept looking at the ground, sometimes refusing to even glance at him, how he hid his trembling hand inside the sleeve of his shirt, how he tried to walk normally despite his aching leg. 

 

Chanyeol was ashamed. 

 

Whenever Baekhyun looked at him, he only saw the sun. For him, Chanyeol had always been _beautiful,_ even if it might have been peculiarly and, even with painful wounds, he couldn’t help but getting lost in his every detail whenever he looked at him. 

 

And it was so hard to look at the person he loved hating himself with every fiber of his body. 

 

Baekhyun would have gifted him the moon, the stars and the whole sky if he could, only to prove him how they got nothing on him, because Chanyeol shined brighter. 

 

_“Y—yeah”._

 

His voice was weak, a bit quivering, but Baekhyun opened the door nonetheless and Chanyeol looked _beautiful_. For a few seconds, he only stared at him, analysing every curve of his body being hugged by the grey suit perfectly, like it was made just for him, and noticing how Chanyeol’s body changed. He looked taller, wider, toned arms and chest appearing from behind the fabric. The war shaped him, internally and externally, and that lanky, skinny boy he fell in love with had suddenly disappeared. 

 

A man strong enough to survive Hell replaced him and Baekhyun just fell in love one more time, like it was the first. 

 

“You look beautiful, Chanyeol” Baekhyun walked closer, despite the other still not looking at him. He caged his waist with his arms, hugging him from behind and pressing his cheeks to the taller’s back. “You really do and I’ll never stop telling you”. 

 

Chanyeol moved his hands until they held Baekhyun’s, still pressed on his stomach, and let himself being guided toward the vanity that stood near the window. The smaller made him sit and positioned himself between his legs, making Chanyeol’s lungs stop breathing as he properly looked at Baekhyun. A white shirt, similar to his but definitely tighter and with its collar undone, covered his upper half while only a pair of tight, short pants perfectly hugged his thighs. His brain almost stopped working, too focused on Baekhyun to register anything else, and the proximity of their bodies was making his heart beat fast. Chanyeol didn’t know where to put his hands, almost scared to touch Baekhyun inappropriately. 

 

“You can touch me” he giggled as he started brushing Chanyeol’s hair with care. “I love you and you’re allowed to”. 

 

The soldier raised his trembling hand and gently lied it on Baekhyun’s lower back, making him stand even closer while the need to feel his lover’s warmth grew. The smaller combed his hair, styling it up with expert hands and the help of a little bit of gel, as Chanyeol relaxed in that proximity, often hiding his face in Baekhyun’s stomach. His lover just laughed, lovingly staring at him, and dropping the brush on the near table. Baekhyun just took Chanyeol’s hands in his and made them lie on the back of his thighs, as his slowly reached for the other’s flushed face. 

 

“I like it when you hold me like this” Baekhyun whispered, pressing his head to Chanyeol’s forehead just to end up passionately kissing his lips after. 

 

It was such an intimate moment their hearts shared, with the silent house around them and the now dark sky as the only witness. Chanyeol held Baekhyun stronger while the latter held him by the neck and kept on kissing him with all the love he had for him. The soldier felt his heart explode like a bomb in the endless sea, his body floating on the water, more alive than it had ever been. The first fleeting touches of something that was just born, so new and delicate, like a rose bud blooming in winter. 

 

“It’s hard to control myself with you looking like this” he said softly, leaning on Chanyeol’s body and still holding the back of his neck. “Sadly I’ll have to, or we won’t go anywhere tonight”. 

 

Baekhyun turned to the table, reaching for a black coloured pencil and a red lipstick. Chanyeol never saw men wearing make up before and it felt almost weird, but _right_ at the same time. He still remembered blurry image of his mother putting lipstick on her lips and, even if her traits were veiled, he could still see the smile she had on her face as she stared at herself in the mirror. 

 

“Close your eyes” 

 

Chanyeol complied but a second after he felt Baekhyun’s lips on his for a brief second and the latter’s soft laugh resonating in the room. He couldn’t help but smile and Baekhyun leaned even closer, his face barely an inch away from his, while he removed his glasses and the cold pencil’s point was being pressed to his eyelids, creating a dark line above his lashes. What he felt next was Baekhyun’s finger on his lips, gently tapping the red lipstick at the center but taking a bit more longer than required. 

 

“Look at yourself” 

 

Baekhyun turned the chair for Chanyeol to face the mirror. He looked at the dark line making his eyes look deeper and his lips seemed softer, plumper with a touch of red. His hair was styled upwards and lightly sparkled because of the gel, leaving his forehead empty. For a second, he almost forgot about his wounds as Baekhyun hugged him from behind, crouching until his head leaned on the taller’s shoulder and his arms held Chanyeol’s chest, but as soon as his eyes left his lover’s face, everything was back. Suddenly, he could only see the scars, the one beneath his eye and the one on his cheek, and then the ones appearing under the white shirt’s collar. 

 

“Can you—can you do something with these?” he said, pointing at the cuts with his finger. 

 

“I can but…why would you cover them?” 

 

“Because—I’m ashamed” Chanyeol lowered his head, but Baekhyun was ready to catch him and make him look at his reflection again, smiling at him from the mirror. 

 

“I can’t see shame in battle scars, Chanyeol” he whispered, stroking his cheek but never losing contact with the other’s eyes. “They’re a sign of your courage, the constant reminder that you _survived_ and that not even Hell had been able to destroy you. Don’t ever be ashamed of them, Chanyeol. You’re not just a soldier, you’re a _warrior”._

 

He wanted to believe him because of those eyes looking at his reflection, as bright as those stars they used to admire together when they were younger. Chanyeol wanted to bathe in that light, to dive right in, because Baekhyun was everything that shined and, even when the sky grew dark, the world around him still sparkled. 

 

The faint light of the bedside lamp and the moon illuminated Baekhyuns face, as if he were an angel who had fallen from Heaven. Baekhyun was fixing his hair, making the two sides part and letting one black lock fall on his gaze. The soldier just admired him lining his eyes with the black pencil and colouring his soft lips with the same lipstick he used, while the light kissed only half of his face and drew the outline of his body. The night grew late as he stared at him and Chanyeol wanted to stop time, to keep him in his eyes even longer. 

 

“You’re beautiful” 

 

Chanyeol whispered, maybe too loud, because Baekhyun heard. 

 

But it was worth it. 

 

His smile was more blinding than the moon. 

 

 

◉

 

 

_Siena’s_ wasn’t what Chanyeol had expected. 

 

He had never been to a club before that night but, whenever he rode his bike down the so-called _red district_ , none of those bars looked as fancy and rich. 

 

In front of the door stood two muscled body-guards, who were even taller than Chanyeol. They were both dressed in white suites with a coordinated bow ties and, while one of them was probably an Italian immigrant sporting a thick black moustache, the other had a really dark skin that pleasantly contrasted with his clothes. They were smiley and kind despite their strong presence and Chanyeol heard Baekhyun greet them, exclaiming: “ _Tony! Jamal!”_ against the heavy jangle of those who were waiting in line outside. 

 

“Baekhyun-ie! We missed you!” said the first, Tony. “It’s been such a long time since we last saw you!” 

 

“Yeah, many things happened lately. There wasn’t much time for _Siena’s_ , but I’m glad to be back”. 

 

“And this _handsome_ young man is?” Jamal asked, curiously and almost seductively looking at Chanyeol, who was standing behind Baekhyun. 

 

The latter grabbed his arm and made him stand next to him, proudly smiling at him as Chanyeol, clearly abashed, scratched the back of his neck. 

 

“He’s my _boyfriend,_ so divert your praying eyes somewhere else, Jamal, he’s taken!” Baekhyun exclaimed again, the hint of a smile appearing on his lips as he jokingly slapped the man’s arm, making them both laugh. 

 

“What a pity”

 

“The boss is waiting for you inside, Baekhyun. He’s been very happy lately! When your call came and he informed us you would join the party tonight, he was over the moon!” Tony said, smiling under his tick moustache. “Don’t forget to sign in and have fun!”. 

 

Loud, jazz music was coming from the inside of the club, and the big and colourful _Siena’s_ banner illuminated the dark street with its dancing light bulbs. A heavy, pink curtain covered the entrance and, when Baekhyun moved it, Chanyeol stopped for a second. The whole place was shining in a faint, yellow light. Spotlights illuminated the little stage, where a live band was performing for the crowd. Red drapes fell from the ceiling, almost glistening under the crystal chandeliers, and contrasted with the white, leathery couches behind marble coffee tables. 

 

People were already on the dance floor in the middle of the big room, swinging and moving along the notes of _Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy_ by The Andrews Sisters. What took Chanyeol aback for a moment, was that they were all in couples, but mostly composed of people of the same sex. They looked free, careless, protected from a world that wouldn’t have accepted them. Outside, they would have been arrested, tortured, maybe murdered, but that club looked like their safe Heaven, the only place where they were free of every act and mask. 

 

Chanyeol strengthened his hold on Baekhyun’s hand, suddenly taking the courage to shyly kiss him on the forehead, because he felt _free_ too. The smaller smiled at him, leaning on his arm as they proceeded towards a small reception table, where a pretty, young woman with short hair stood. In front of her, Chanyeol noticed something that looked like a register, with probably a hundred of names written on it. 

 

“It’s nice to see you again, Baekhyun” she greeted. 

 

“Hey, Janet!” Baekhyun said and Chanyeol loved to see how at _home_ he looked there, casually scrambling his signature on the paper. He took their big coats, giving them to the girl, and turned his back to look at him: “ _Yeori-e_ , you need to sign here, too”. 

 

“Why?” 

 

“It’s for the police. The government asks every gay club to hold a register of its guests in case a round-up happens. Basically, if you run, they have your name and they can arrest you” 

 

“Isn’t this…risky?” Chanyeol asked again, confused. 

 

“Not really anymore. With the war, they had more important things to think about and _faggots_ weren’t exactly a priority. They do some surprise intrusions sometimes but Minseok has power and, most of all, _money._ Some bills and most of them are done, they just leave and act as if nothing happened. Just write your name with some wrong letters here and there, in case some though cops come” he smiled. “You don’t have to worry, nothing will happen if you stay with me”. 

 

Baekhyun almost whispered that final line, a bit flirty as he bit his lips. Maybe it was the spirit of freedom he dreaded to feel, the reckless bravery that came along with first loves and Chanyeol signed without even thinking. When Baekhyun took his hand, Chanyeol felt like flying. He started dragging him around the place, often turning his head to glance at him and his feet just left the ground. 

 

“Minseok!” Baekhyun exclaimed, waving his free hand to three guys sitting at the largest table in the whole club. “Yixing! Jongdae!” 

 

The men turned around, smiling wide as soon as they saw Baekhyun, who suddenly let go of his hand to greet his friends. Two of them were dressed quite simply, both with black and brown patterned pants and matching ties, while the last one was a completely different story. 

 

His hair was raven, partially styled with a tick layer of gel until only one strand fell on his forehead, right in the middle, above a pair of cat eyes heavily lined with a black pencil. The short pants he was wearing looked ever tighter than Baekhyun’s, probably a smaller size than the one he actually needed, and the only thing that covered the upper part of his body was a dark, sheer shirt that left nothing to imagination. Chanyeol also noticed how _feminine_ his accessories looked, such as a silky, black ribbon tied around his neck, a pair of silver earrings dangling from his ears and a pink feather boa that covered his shoulders. The man, who Baekhyun called Minseok, knew how attractive he was and used it to his advantage, making every of his moves look seductive. His eyes were lustful, almost half closed, as he stared at Baekhyun in front of him, holding a Martini in his left hand. 

 

Baekhyun already told him about Minseok. 

 

They met in High School, where Minseok guided the Drama Club. He was five years older than them but his reckless behaviour and terrible grades costed him three more years of school. Minseok had always been the type to never go unnoticed, walking down the hallway as if it was his personal runaway. 

 

He was powerful, beautiful sly and rich. 

 

And the first professed homosexual student at Roger C. Sullivan High. 

 

Minseok was a free spirit: reckless, youthful, _alive._

 

But being his real self costed him a lot and he had been arrested five times because of his sexuality. 

 

Voices spread rapidly and whenever Minseok hooked up with another guy, the whole school started to bet about how many days he had left before going back to jail. The cops hit him, kicked him, punched him until he bled, because _they wanted to cure his illness_ , but Minseok never cared. He accepted it in exchange of his true identity and freedom. 

 

Minseok met Yixing and Jongdae through Baekhyun and, since then, the three developed a weird kind of connection, experiencing sexual intercourses regularly and together. IIt was a loving, unspoken but only sexual relationship of three. When Minseok’s father disowned him after the army refused to enlist him for the war, they decided to start living together and embrace their sexuality to the fullest. 

 

“It’s nice to finally see your pretty face, Sweetheart” Minseok purred, briefly slapping Baekhyun’s butt cheeks in the meantime. “Your ass looks great tonight”. 

 

Chanyeol’s stomach twisted. 

 

“And _Ooh,_ what a pleasure! You bought someone with you!” the man’s eyes shifted on Chanyeol as he started walking toward him, sensually swaying his hips. “Such a hot stuff we have here. I absolutely _love_ tall men, I’m a _sucker_ for them”. 

 

Chanyeol wasn’t used to the attention. He never felt praying eyes on his body, nor heard lustful and flirty words directed at him. The soldier could feel Baekhyun shifting nervously on his feet, directing his gaze to the ground as Minseok neared him dangerously, swaying his hips and feather boa. Chanyeol never saw Baekhyun looking that insecure before. He couldn’t even look at the scene happening right in front of him and it was almost as if the brave, strong Baekhyun had disappeared for a second. 

 

“You know, I’m the owner of this place” he said, slowly passing a finger on Chanyeol’s exposed chest. “and I can access some _special, private_ rooms on the second floor”.

 

His eyes where on Baekhyun again. 

 

_Is he…scared?_

 

Chanyeol suddenly grabbed Baekhyun’s hand, dragging him to his body until the smaller’s chest touched his. Following a wave of bravery that never reached his shores, the taller engulfed Baekhyun in his arms and, even if he felt his cheeks heat up, held him tight. 

 

“I’m sorry but I’m with Baekhyun” he could feel Baekhyun’s gaze directed at him, smiling so brightly. “I’m his boyfriend”. 

 

“ _Oh?_ Don’t tell me—“ Minseok laughed loudly as Yixing and Jongdae eyed the scene with curious eyes, sipping on their cocktails. “He’s the one you crushed on for almost ten years? The _nerd?_ I guess time can do wonders”. 

 

“His name is Chanyeol, thank you very much” with new found confidence, it was Baekhyun who took Chanyeol’s hand and started to drag him toward the dance floor. “and, if you will excuse us, we came here to dance. So, bye!”. 

 

“What a party pooper. If you weren’t such a prude, we could have included you too!”. 

 

As he looked at Baekhyun in front of him, Chanyeol thought that it was a weird world, one he hadnever explored before, but one he felt a part of. 

 

Maybe, freedom was what he needed, too. 

And, if Baekhyun was there, he would have made that weird, foreign world beautiful too. 

 

 

◉

 

 

The Jazz band on the small stage was playing _“You’re the Only Star in My Blue Heaven”_ by Gene Autry and everywhere around them, couples were slowly dancing to the rhythm. Girls were moving around, swinging their pastel skirts as they danced the Jitterbug together, uncaring of their red lipstick being smeared because of all the kisses they shared. Some men were dancing while sipping some Cokes and weird coloured drinks, half of them checking some others in the room and conversing between them. Chanyeol was holding the smaller’s waist and Baekhyun’s arms were around his neck as he lied his head on the taller’s chest, sweetly swaying to the music. 

 

“ _You’re the only star in my blue Heaven”_ Chanyeol sang, pressing his lips to Baekhyun’s ears. “ _And you’re shining brightly just for me”._

 

“Stop!” the smaller said, teasingly hitting the other on the chest, a bit embarrassed. 

 

“Never” he whispered and he felt drunk, drunk on love maybe, drunk on that new sensation of freedom he felt for the first time. “Why did you look so uncomfortable when Minseok said those things? It was almost as if you were scared”. 

 

Baekhyun pressed his face on Chanyeol’s chest, hiding there, before talking. “It’s just my insecurity coming back from time to time. Especially around him”. 

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

“Oh, come on Chanyeol. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice how attractive he is”. 

 

“Objectively speaking, I can conclude that he is, but why would I care?”. 

 

Chanyeol was confused. Why would he look at anyone else when the only man he cared about was with him? 

 

Baekhyun sighed. “During high school times, guys always used me to get to him. Every time we went to a club, they would approach me, look interested and then ask me about Minseok. They prayed me to score them a date with him or even just a hook up. I didn’t care about them because I had a crush on you already, but insecurities can eat you up and hurt your pride, you know?”. 

 

Chanyeol didn’t like that look on Baekhyun’s face when, to him, there was no one that could have compared to his love. Baekhyun was the flowers blooming at the outskirts of Spring, the first falling snowflakes in a dark winter night, the one he’d tell the moon about. He loved him since the first time he saw him, so shining and bright, and he would have loved him until the last. 

 

“Like Gene said, you’re the only star in my blue Heaven” he kissed him on his forehead. “I waited ten years for you, why would I fall for his words?” 

 

“He’s pretty handsome”

 

“And you’re beautiful”.

 

Baekhyun was leaning in, already closing his eyes, but suddenly the music shifted and he stopped, making them both turn. The band was now below the stage, which had its red curtain closed, but a piano was lonely playing a sensual tune, when a voice spoke. 

 

“ _Ladies and Gentleman, please welcome…Madame Siena!”_

 

_“_ Here he is” Baekhyun sighed and Chanyeol was still confused, until the curtain opened, revealing a figure in the middle. 

 

It looked like a woman, with blonde hair and a long dress made of pink, glittery chiffon that covered her whole body and exploded in two enormous tulle sleeves. She was standing at the center of the stage, her hands on the bustier covered in crystals, sultry eyes looking in front of her and scanning the crowd that immediately went silent. The two long, sparkly earrings and necklace reflected the stage lights and made her look like an otherworldly creature that descended from above the sky and, when she started to move around the stage, the audience screamed her name. 

 

_“Madame Siena! Madame Siena!”_

 

But those moves were too familiar. 

 

“Is that…Minseok?” 

 

“In all his pompous glory” Baekhyun said again, leaning on Chanyeol’s chest as if he was scared he would start screaming that name, too. “It all started when he saw some Tony Midnite’s photos on a magazine and decided that it would have been the final solution for his gigantic ego”. 

 

Chanyeol let go a breathy laugh but it was cut short when Madame Siena started singing _I Wanna be Loved by You_ by Helene Kane. 

 

_“I wanna be loved by you, just you, nobody else but you”_

 

There was something, something at the back of his head that made him stop, something that made his head hurt and his heart start racing. Chanyeol’s breath was hitching and he brought one hand to his chest, right where his heart was, because it _hurt._

 

_“I wanna be loved by you, alone! Boop-boop-a-doop!”_

 

She kept on singing but every word and every note was echoing in his head, too distant, too _painful._ Without even realising he held his skull, trying to contain that piercing pain, and he could almost hear Baekhyun calling his name but everything felt like a nightmare where he had no control of his own body. 

 

Suddenly, loud mortars started shooting around him. 

 

He could feel every bullet tearing his skin apart, taste the blood flowing from his mouth, headless corpses falling at his feet and crawling to his body like walking deads, asking for his soul, his _life_ , screaming at him for being alive when they were nothing but mutilated clusters of flesh. There was a sky above him, tinted with red and dusted with burning clouds as planes dropped their bombs anddesperate screams mixed with the rumbles of their engines. 

 

Everything around him was exploding: arms, legs, heads thrown into the air together with dust and Chanyeol could feel it, that taste of sand that blocked his breathing and made him feel like he was suffocating. One of his legs was dead and he couldn’t move, he was stuck to the ground, and all around him laid other dead soldiers, soaked in blood, with their mouths hanged open and tumescent skin, looking at him with empty orbs. 

 

He wanted to scream, run away, seek for protection but he had no control of his body. 

 

Chanyeol trudged, dragging his body through the field of carcasses until he reached the sea but, when he tried to drink the water, it turned _red_. Three corpses were lying on the bloody water, each of them with a crown of white flower crowns positioned on their stomachs. 

 

And Chanyeol tried to reach them, stretching his hand to them, but when a bomb exploded, it all went black. 

 

_“Chanyeol!”_

 

◉

 

 

 

Chapter III

**_The Bluebird’s cry_ **

 

Gulf of Gela, Messina

**_July 10, 1943_ **

 

 

The sun felt too hot that day. 

 

Sicily was way too warm during summer and Chanyeol could feel the rough fabric of his uniform hitching like sand paper on his sweaty skin. The big backpack was heavy on his back as the whole troop marched through the mountains at the sound of their metallic bowls dangling. When they reached the top, Chanyeol removed some sweat from his forehead, looking at the landscape in front of him: he could see Messina glistening under the warm sun, with its sea calmly shattering on the shores.

 

In a different time, he would have loved to take Baekhyun there to enjoy the beautiful sight of the sun falling asleep under the sea.

 

“Troops! Gather!” Chanyeol heard his general say. “I’m now gonna divide you all in six teams of four and every team will cover a different part of the city. The British army will attack on the right side, we attack on the left. While the rest of us will fire in the center of the city, we’ll try to destroy and occupy their checkpoints scattered around Messina. We know they placed some snipers so keep your eyes wide open for the higher spots. Is everything clear?”. 

 

The soldiers murmured a weak _“yes sir”_ , looking at each other’s faces. 

 

They knew it was a suicide mission. 

 

None of them represented the best of their troops, they were barely paws being sacrificed as a distraction. Canned meat. 

 

“Shelby, Lean, Nealey, Park. You’re team A” the man announced. “You’ll take care of the northern part of the city”. 

 

Chanyeol scanned the three men’s faces. 

 

One of them, Lean, looked even younger than him, with scared blue eyes behind a pair of thick, squared glasses and a mole on his right cheek. He was short and wore the uniform with rolled up sleeves, looking so small next to the other guy, Nealey. He was tall, even taller than Chanyeol, with a handsome, tanned face that almost shone under the hot sun. Nealey was looking at the scenery beneath them, savouring the beauty of the place with a pair of deep brown eyes. The last one, Shelby, was standing on his feet, hands on his waist, scanning his teammates faces. He looked peculiar, Chanyeol thought, with a big scar crossing over his right eye and some strands of short, blonde hair appearing from the green helmet. 

 

For a brief moment, they were all looking at each other, wondering if those people would be the ones witnessing their last breaths. 

 

 

◉

 

 

The three guys started walking during the first hours of that same afternoon. The city wasn’t deserted: and some flashes of life could still be seen: some clothes hanging from different windows or a few noises coming from the houses they passed by. There was a faint smell of gunpowder in the air and some buildings that had been destroyed by the bombings were still fuming. While the soldiers walked, they could see small groups of people digging in the clusters of rubble, probably looking for their belongings or, maybe, for _corpses._ What looked like a family of three (an old man and two kids) was dragging a dead body out of a house’s ruin but, when they didn’t recognise the face, they just covered it with a white cloth and left in a lighter mood. 

 

“Can you believe this? People being relieved that someone else died” Naley said. “This war turned us into monsters”. 

 

“In times like these, seeing a dead corpse is something that happens daily”. Shelby replied, diverting his eyes from the body. “You’re just happy that body isn’t the one of someone you loved”. 

 

“Fear, love, egoism. At least it’s a way to feel _something_ ” Lean was talking with a fainter voice, looking at his surroundings as they walked. “Since this war started, sometimes I forget how being _human_ feels like”. 

 

Chanyeol stayed silent, walking behind them and looking at Baekhyun’s picture, raising his head just to check if there were some debris on his way. 

 

“Hey Park!” he heard and, when he looked ahead, he saw Naley’s eyes on him. “Admiring your girlfriend’s picture?” 

 

“O-oh?” Chanyeol murmured, fixing the round glasses on his nose. “Y-yes, my…g-girlfriend” 

 

“She must be so pretty then, you’re so concentrated that you didn’t even tell us your name” his tone sounded mocking but the smile he had on his face betrayed nothing but curiosity. It was clear how the guy wasn’t trying to make him feel embarrassed, rather helping him to properly feel like a part of the team. “My name is Thomas, these are Quill Shelby and Peter Lean”. 

 

“I-I’m Chanyeol!” he replied and he felt welcomed, because all the other boys stopped and greeted him with a smile. 

 

“Well, Chanyeol, I hope this might be the start of a new friendship, then”. 

 

And, in that moment, Chanyeol hoped it would have. 

 

But Destiny always knows how to be cruel. 

 

 

◉

 

 

Evening came fast as the four soldiers admired the sun disappearing behind the city and being swallowed up by the sea. They spent the day walking and talking like old friends meeting after a while, going on about their families, how their life was before the war, what they dreamed of for their future. It was hard to not look at the world around them, wondering if it would have been the last time but, for those brief, serene moments they tried to forget about everything else and enjoy their youth, pretending to be at home, away from Hell. 

 

As the moon started to rise in the dark sky of Messina, an old, abandoned church appeared in front of them: part of the rooftop was destroyed and there was no light coming from the inside, but it looked like a perfect place to hide in for the night. Checking their surroundings and crouching behind some walls, the soldiers reached the old doorway and pushed it with full force until the lock completely broke down, allowing them to enter. Inside, there was nothing but silence and darkness, with the moon rays as the only source of a faint light. 

 

“We’ll be able to get a few hours of rest here. The north part of the city looks clear, no snipers or enemies in sight. We’ll rejoin the rest of the regiment by tomorrow, possibly after the big attack because I plan on staying alive for a bit more than this and avoid a possible massacre” Thomas lowered his rifle, letting it lie on a bench. 

 

Chanyeol pulled his flashlight out, pointing it at his surroundings. 

 

“There’s a fireplace there!” he said, walking toward it. “Should we light it up? We could use our flashlights but we might run out of batteries”. 

 

“Good idea, Park!” Thomas exclaimed, ruffling his hair as the others leaned their weapons on the nearest wall. 

 

“There are some candles here too. We should move some of these benches and make this place look like a bar. Then we can act like hot young men sitting at a club’s table, conversing and sipping some Martini” Quill pointed his flashlight at the benches behind him. “I mean, we only have some water, but at least they look similar”. 

 

They all laughed and it was nice. It was nice to feel a bit of humanity in the air, to lower their weapons for a moment and pretend that they weren’t soldiers, but just boys in the middle of youth. Once they moved the benches and ordered them in a circle, they grabbed their water bottles, filling the metallic cups they had with them. The fireplace was cracking in the background, while the candles illuminated the room faintly and, for a second, they just enjoyed the silence of the night. Chanyeol reached his pocket, taking his most precious possession between his hands but making sure that the others couldn’t see it. He smiled, thinking about Baekhyun between his arms, maybe in a different time, place, or even life, but still there, with him, sharing the same starry sky.

 

“Still the girlfriend?” Peter asked out of the blue and, coming out of his trance, Chanyeol realised they have all been staring at him. 

 

“Y—yeah” 

 

But then, they all giggled. “Drop the act, Park. Everyone here knows that’s not a girl”. 

 

Chanyeol suddenly raised his back, scared eyes staring back at them. 

 

“This might be the first time we’re on a mission together but we all saw you before. You’re always staring at that picture” Thomas was smiling softly at him. “One day I got curios, so I peeked a bit and I saw him”. 

 

He lowered his head, hiding the picture again and covering his face with both of his hands. 

 

“If you want to hit me or beat me, please do it quickly” he cried. “I can’t help it”. 

 

There was silence around them and, even if Chanyeol couldn’t see, he was sure they were staring at him. He was shaking, _scared_ , because he knew what people did to those like him, to those they called _sins_. Chanyeol heard those stories multiple times: boys being beaten up until their faces weren’t even recognisable anymore. Some died, some barely lived. 

 

But those punches never came. 

 

“Why would we do that?” Thomas asked, confusion written all over his face as he sipped his water. “I don’t beat up people, most of all because of who they love”. 

Chanyeol looked at him, surprised, because for the first time someone _accepted_ him. He didn’t need to hide, lie, run away: he was okay, his _love_ was okay. All those eyes weren’t looking at him with disgust, rather with a serene light that shone in them, with a tenderness that didn’t make him feel like a sin. 

 

“That’s…that’s what people do, right? They beat us up because we disgust them, b—because we’re sick, isn’t it?” He was fumbling with his hand, shaking as he dried some falling tears with the uniform’s sleeve. “I heard about…about those stories, of boys being _killed_ and people praising those assassins because they _deserved_ it—”. 

 

“My brother is gay too, Chanyeol. I saw him kissing a boy when he was fifteen” Quill said, making Chanyeol stop. “It was hard in the beginning, I’m not going to lie. I started asking myself if I really knew my own brother. But then, time passed: I looked at him and wondered…does it actually make a difference or am _I_ the problem?” 

 

The fire was crackling in the background as Quill spoke, softly smiling as his eyes got lost in the dark for a second. 

 

“One day, I just told him. I told him I knew and the expression he had in that moment will haunt me for the rest of my life. He was _scared_ , scared of the same person that raised him, scared of _me,_ because the world tried to convince him that he deserved to die” his voice was low as he collected the only tear that fell from one of his eyes. “But then I just hugged him. It felt like the first time I held him in my arms, when he was barely a few hours old”. 

 

Chanyeol didn’t know what to say but his eyes spoke enough words. He let his hand lie on Quill’s thighs, smiling softly and with teary eyes to express all the gratitude he felt in that moment. 

 

“The girl I love is considered a _scum_ and you know why? Because of the color of her skin” Peter’s gaze suddenly darkened and the whole group turned their heads to look at him. “Our love stories are similar, Chanyeol. They keep telling me I can’t love her because she’s a _worthless animal_. One day, a group of man came to us while we were in a cafe, during a Sunday afternoon. And do you know what they did? They slapped her””. 

 

He stopped, swallowing the tears. 

 

“They slapped her and told her that animals shouldn’t enter a cafe, that they should wait outside. I punched them both on the face but her eyes…she was so broken” he was chocking on his words. “When I go back I’ll marry her. I don’t care what anyone else will say, they won’t stop me. I’ll marry her and I’ll prove her how worthy she is. 

 

“If there’s anything the has War taught me is that we’re all _humans_ ” Thomas looked at them, his lips faintly curved. “I saw people dying for two years: men, women, children. They all died in the same way and we will all die like that too. Humans just close their eyes and go, no matter who they loved or which color their skin was, their souls are made of the same substance. Once parasites will attack our organs and our skin will decompose, then what will remain? Just bones”. 

 

Thomas stretched his hand, gently ruffling Chanyeol’s head again. 

 

“Don’t ever let anyone else tell you who you should love, Chanyeol. Those feelings are yours and no one else’s” 

 

“Oh, come on, let’s stop with these depressing topics” Quill said, with an hint of tears still visible in his eyes. “Tell us, is he good in bed?” 

 

“W—what?” Chanyeol stuttered as the other guys giggled at Quill’s words. “We—we never did things like—like that, I haven’t…I haven’t even confessed yet!”. 

 

“What? Man, I bet that guys from _your side_ swoon at you, what are you waiting for?” 

 

“I’m not exactly that type of guy. People back at home…they just laugh at me, Baekhyun has always been the only person who accepted me for who I was” He smiled, thinking about that love he was still waiting for. “Can you believe that, the first time we met, I fell with my bike right in front of him? Such a good way to start”. 

 

A wave of laughters filled the silent air around them and Chanyeol giggled too, feeling warm inside. He imagined them in a different place, where War didn’t exist, maybe back in Chicago or somewhere else, where they could have been just four young men troubled by the simplest problems. For a moment, he forgot about the rifle that was lying next to his feet, about the half destroyed rooftop above them, about the bombings, the blood, about death. For some brief hours they conceded themselves to pretend that everything outside that church didn’t exist. Chanyeol imagined Quill running toward his brother and hugging him tightly, Peter kissing his girlfriend under the moonlight as Thomas just happily stared at them while sipping some of his Martini. That image felt so real and he could almost feel Baekhyun next to him too, smiling so brightly at him. 

 

For those fleeting moments, Chanyeol was finally alive again. 

 

“Once this gigantic mess ends, you better confess because we want to visit Chicago just to meet that boy” Thomas said. 

 

“Hopefully, I’ll come back and find the courage to finally tell him. When he looks at me I just start blabbering and stuttering, I don’t understand why he’s still stuck with a mess like me”. 

 

They all laughed again but Chanyeol looked at Peter’s expression, which changed suddenly. 

 

“Do you hear that too, guys?” he asked and the three soldiers stopped laughing, listening to the silence around them. 

 

From outside the church’s walls, some faint music was playing but it was barely audible as the cricket’s sound resonated loudly. Peter stood up, reaching the cracked window and leaning on it to hear the song more clearly. A smile bloomed on his face as the others tried to listen too and the boy just started singing, following the music. 

 

_“I wanna be loved by you, just you, nobody else but you”_ he was singing so out of tune but there was such a pleasant happiness lingering in the air that made them all look at him while softly giggling at his silliness. _“I wanna be loved by you, alone! Boop-boop-a-doop!”_

 

Peter was swaying his back, imitating Helene Kane and moving around the church as if it was a stage, dancing along. 

 

“Aah, I want to hear it more clearly, I love this song. My girlfriend used to sing this all the time” 

 

In a matter of seconds, Peter was already climbing on the shattered window, one foot on the sill as he clang on the wall next to him. The night air was ruffling his hair and his expression was of pure peace, with his eyes closed and a soft smile on his lips. 

 

But in a matter of seconds, he jumped out of the window and proceeded to walk toward the direction of the music. 

 

They all suddenly stood up, worried expressions plastered on their faces, and Thomas screamed: “Get back here, idiot! It’s night time, enemies might be hid—“ 

 

All it took was a fleeting second. 

 

Only one second. 

 

Before they could even realize, Peter was bathing in his own blood. 

 

His eyes were still open but he was lying on the ground, with his head directed toward the moon and convulsing as the hole in his chest kept sweating blood. In the silence of the night, as the music suddenly stopped, all they could hear were Peter’s wails. 

 

The three soldiers stared at him, tears petrified in their eyes. 

 

It was there, right in front of them.

 

_Death_ in its most cruel form. 

 

And in that moment, they became monsters too, because they wished it was someone else lying there, wailing and waiting for that light to take him away. Peter had dreams, a love waiting for him and probably staring at the moon from her window, praying the God above to take him back. 

 

God just turned their back at them, that night. 

 

She was probably reading the last letter he sent, where, maybe, he promised her the whole sky and she was imagining him lying under that same moon, looking at the stars. 

 

But Peter was dying. 

 

Only one more second. 

 

Only one more second and Quill was out there, holding his rifle and shooting in the air, aiming at a faceless enemy. 

 

But when he reached Peter’s body, a bullet hit him in the head. 

After that, everything went dark. 

 

Chanyeol and Thomas jumped out of that same window too. 

 

“ _Run, Chanyeol!”_

 

Chanyeol remembered those words. 

 

The image of Thomas shouting as he shielded him with his body was engraved in his mind with a knife. 

 

Chanyeol was on the ground, eyes wide as everything around him happened slow-motion. Thomas was shooting his rifle, aiming at the two snipers on a near rooftop and his legs just stopped working. His companion was still shouting at him, praying him to run away but, like the scariest nightmare, his body was petrified. 

 

_“Run!”_

 

As soon as Chanyeol moved behind a house’s walls, Thomas got shot. 

 

He looked at the soldier falling, completely abandoned as he hit the ground, with his eyes and mouth still open wide. Chanyeol screamed, looking at his three companions, _friends_ , lying lifeless at his feet. He was shaking, almost convulsing, as some of their blood stained his boots. 

 

_What about your promise?_ He thought. 

 

What about Peter marrying the love of his life, Quill going back to his brother, Thomas coming to Chicago just to meet Baekhyun? What about a future? What about a _life_? Three men were lying there, waiting for the death to come as their own God abandoned them. 

 

_“Töte ihn!”_

 

Chanyeol heard the German scream as one of the other soldiers climbed off the rooftop and started running toward his direction, holding his rifle. He looked at his friends one more time before standing up and running with that last bit of strength he still had in his body. The soldier fell multiple times, his eyes blurred by the tears, but he could hear the German’s steps running after him. He felt like a mouse in trap being haunted by a cat who was trying to devour him. Chanyeol’s breath was erratic, his legs were trembling and his head pounding as he felt his assassin coming closer. 

 

And he fell. 

 

He fell to the ground, hitting the floor with his knees that started bleeding through the uniform. Chanyeol tried to crawl, to desperately run away again as Thomas’s words stille echoed in his head. 

 

_“Run, Chanyeol!”_

 

He tried, he tried so hard to run away, to not waste his death, but the other soldier was right behind him, pointing his rifle at his head. 

 

“Dreh dich um!” 

 

Chanyeol couldn’t understand what the soldier was trying to say but, when he slowly turned around, their gazes met. The soldier was even younger than him, with two big, blue eyes staring right back at him. He was skinny, too skinny for someone that was fighting in a war, and Chanyeol could read that stare.

 

He was scared. 

 

Chanyeol looked at the rifle pointed at his head but the boy was trembling, hesitating with his finger shaking on the trigger. Their eyes locked for what felt like hours and, suddenly, the soldier held the rifle up high and shot in the air. 

 

“Gehen” 

 

The boy who was supposed to kill him just stared at him, pointing at the sea with one finger. 

 

And Chanyeol understood. 

 

As he stared at him, Chanyeol asked himself which war were they really fighting. Why were they killing each other, when they were all just the same? Humans used as pawns, that acted like animals to survive. 

 

They were all _brothers._

 

A word that was trembling in the air of that night, something that couldn’t really be said of two soldiers from different regiments but, pronouncing that word out loud, they became conscious of their humanity and weaknesses, finding safety in that unspoken bond. 

 

“Thank you, Brother”

 

Suddenly, the boy’s eyes softened and Chanyeol forgot that the one he was looking at was supposed to be his enemy. He wasn’t a ruthless monster but a companion from a different regiment, fighting for the same purpose, fearing his same fears and suffering of the same pain. 

 

Under that moonlight, Chanyeol looked at him one last time, before running toward the sea. 

 

 

◉

 

 

Chanyeol didn’t know how much time passed. 

 

Probably hours, or just minutes. 

 

He spent that time hidden after collecting some flowers from a rich garden near the shore, twisting them on three pieces of barbed wire. As the night got deeper, he walked back to the church, hiding behind the houses’s walls with his rifle between his hands, but there was no trace of the three german soldiers. 

 

The only thing that filled the silent street were the three corpses still lying there, floating on a mirror of blood. 

 

It was hard to look at them and think that those three bodies were talking and smiling at him just a few hours before. Those bodies, those people who had dreams, hopes, a life to live but, in that moment, there was nothing. Just _death_. 

 

Chanyeol dried some of his tears with the itchy fabric of his uniform and stole a white bed sheet that was hanging from a window. He handled the bodies with care, as if they were still alive and breathing, when all they did was looking at him with empty, open orbs. He took Peter’s body first, slid him on the wide piece of fabric and dragged him until they reached a secluded area on the beach, hidden by high shores. Chanyeol let him lie on the sand, going back to the other’s and repeating the same procedure with Quill’s body. 

 

When he returned for Thomas, he took a few minutes to just stare at him. 

 

For those fleeting hours, Thomas Naley made him feel _human_. He taught him how the same blood flooded in their veins, how Chanyeol wasn’t _different_ just because of who he loved. 

 

He gave him the strength he needed to keep on fighting for his life. 

 

“I—I promise you” he whispered, words eaten by the tears. “I’ll come back alive and I’ll take Baekhyun to you, T—Thomas”. 

 

With one hand, Chanyeol closed his eyes and positioned him on the sheet. That walk took a bit longer, because he felt like showing Thomas those stars that surrounded them. It was stupid, Chanyeol knew it, he was dead. 

 

When they arrived at the beach, the moon was shining brightly above them. 

 

Chanyeol dragged them one last time, until their heads touched the water. He took the three plates that were hanging around their necks, securing them in his pocket, together with Baekhyun. The soldier positioned the flower crowns on their chests and let them go with the sea. 

 

The three bodies were lying on the water and, as Chanyeol looked at the sky, he hoped that three new stars would start shining there. 

 

Little did he know that those three stars were already watching over him, smiling and promising their little _brother_ that he would go back home. 

 

 

◉

 

 

Chicago

**_January 5, 1946_ **

 

 

When Chanyeol woke up, Baekhyun was beside him. 

 

“Chanyeol!” 

 

They were on a silent street outside of _Siena’s_ and he was lying between Baekhyun’s arms, his legs and feet on the concrete. He could faintly hear some music coming from inside the club and the people in line were staring at them, wondering what happened. 

 

But not even Chanyeol knew. 

 

“B—Baekhyun, w—what—“ he murmured, eyes still half closed. “why are we here?” 

 

Baekhyun was caressing his face while looking at him and he could see his lover’s eyes watering as he bit his lips to stop the tears. 

 

“We were…dancing and Minseok started singing and—“ the smaller tried to say. “you just…fainted, fell on the floor and I didn’t know what to do, I was so scared—“ 

 

The soldier just raised his back and kissed him, stopping his words and sobs, while one of his palms cupped the other’s cheek. When they parted, Baekhyun was still looking at him, almost shaking in fear, and Chanyeol held him in his arms instead, gently caressing his head as he whispered some reassuring words in his lover’s ears. 

 

“It’s okay, Baekhyun-ie, it’s okay” Baekhyun was shivering like a leaf in winter. “I’m okay”. 

 

“W—what happened Chanyeol?” he begged. “I saw you petrifying as soon as Minseok started to sing and then you just…blacked out”. 

 

“I just…it reminded me of something that happened while I was in the front” Chanyeol moved until his eyes were facing Baekhyun’s. “As soon as I heard the song…planes, bombs, screams…everything was surrounding me. I saw corpses, blood, the sea tinted with red and then, suddenly, it was all black”. 

“Let’s go home, Chanyeol” Baekhyun was caressing his cheeks again, as if he was making sure that the man was actually in front of him. 

 

“I’m sorry, I ruined everything. It should have been our first official date and I destroyed it all” 

 

He giggled. “Bold of you to assume that I’ll just take you home and leave, Park Chanyeol”. 

 

_“_ Y—you won’t?” 

 

“No!” Baekhyun pronounced it loudly, shaking his head from left to right. “We’re gonna get some take away burgers from _Carlo’s Jr_ , have a picnic in my bedroom and then you’llcall your grandpa to tell him you’re sleeping with me tonight”

 

He neared Chanyeol, who was still sitting on the concrete and kissed him sweetly, admiring the blush spreading on his cheeks. It was like all the confidence he had before just disappeared, replacing the bold, flirty Chanyeol with his old self, a bit awkward, clumsy but nonetheless beautiful in Baekhyun’s eyes. His kohl was slightly smudged on the side of his eye and his hair was messy, almost deflated, covering his forehead. 

 

“I wouldn’t sleep knowing you’re not beside me, after what happened. I’m scared it’ll happen again and I won’t be there to hold you” he was caressing Chanyeol’s face, almost whispering his words. “When you blacked out you were shaking but, when I held you and started calling for your name, you stopped”. 

 

“It’s like you’re _saving_ me again” Chanyeol confessed those words out loud and he could see Baekhyun’s eyes changing, a veil of water appearing in them and making them glisten. 

 

“I’ve never saved you, Chanyeol. You did it yourself” he said. “I may have helped you, but remember that, if you’re here now, it’s all because of your courage. The only thing I did was to keep loving you, like I always did, but you, you defeated a war. They tried to use you as a pawn, they tried to take your life away, but you still won and you did all of that alone”. 

 

And a kiss was all it took for them to reach the sky. 

 

 

◉

 

 

Rain started to pour heavily that night. 

 

_Carlo’s Jr_ ’s sign was shining over them as they left the restaurant, with their paper bags in one hand and a cup of Cola in the other. They started running but they weren’t trying to escape the little drops falling from the sky, rather bathing in it, in the night, in the happiness they both shared. The dark streets of Chicago were empty, only faintly illuminated by the row of lampposts on each side and their only occupants were the two guys dancing under the rain as their laughs merged in one. They felt drunk, drunk in those feelings that were blooming like a sunflower under the sun, drunk in a love that felt like a fire burning against the rain. Chanyeol and Baekhyun were running after each other as the sky kept crying, probably jealous of something so pure shining brightly below his dark blue cloak. They didn’t care that their burgers were probably soaked, that their Cola was now half composed of rain water, because they felt free. Free to love, free to be, protected by the shadows of the night as Baekhyun stopped to kiss him, in the middle of the street, wishing for the whole world to look at them. 

 

He dropped their paper bags on the nearest red hydrant he found and took Chanyeol’s hands in his, dragging him around as if they were dancing in the middle of a ballroom. 

 

“ _Now the rain’s a-fallin’, hear the train's a-callin’, whooee!”_ he sang, laughing at the same time. “ _my mama done tol' me, hear dat lonesome whistle!”_

 

_“Blowin' 'cross the trestle, Whooee!”_ Chanyeol responded, making him twirl with one hand and catching his waist again. _“my mama done tol' me, a-whooee-ah-whooee ol' clickety-clack's a-echoin' back th' blues in the night!”_

 

It was just them, singing _Blues in the Night_ by William Gillespie, but they felt complete. Chanyeol was looking at Baekhyun dancing under the moonlight, with hair and clothes wet, and suddenly understood the true meaning behind the common image of the _love of your life_.

 

Because Baekhyun was the rain after the bombings, the pouring water that let the blood flow away, that made the sea and the sky look blue again, the delicate, infinite drops he used to admire from the trenches, wishing for them to take him back where he belonged. 

 

“You’re soaked” Baekhyun giggled, while touching Chanyeol’s hair. 

 

“Look who’s talking” he replied. “Even our burgers are soaked” 

 

“They invented the microwave oven for a reason!” the smaller was holding the two paper bags in his hands, looking at them with a serene smile because of the silliness of that situation. 

 

“You have one?” Chanyeol asked, surprised.

 

“Dad bought it for mom during Christmas, it’s my new best friend” Baekhyun’s face was directed towards the sky as Chanyeol shyly grabbed his hand. “When we get married, you’ll have to cook every day, I’m a mess, I could literally burn the house down. For future necessity: I love pasta” 

 

“We—We’ll get married?” 

 

“Of course, you Dumbo” 

 

“But…we’re both men, Baekhyun” 

 

“I have faith” he smiled. “I have faith that, one day, this world will start to accept us and realise that our love is no different. If they won’t, we’ll get married nonetheless because we don’t need a piece of paper to testify our love”. 

 

“What about Italy?” Chanyeol asked, looking at him. “Messina, maybe. For our wedding” 

 

“I’d love that, but why Messina out of the whole country?” 

 

The soldier smiled again, raising his head to look at the sky above, where three, little stars seemed to be shining brighter than the others. 

 

“I made a promise to some friends, there” 

 

With Baekhyun next to him, that future didn’t sound so distant. 

 

And even if Chanyeol couldn’t run properly anymore, Baekhyun would always make sure to slow down, hold his hand and take him where the world didn’t look so scary anymore. 

 

 

◉

 

Chapter IV 

**_How the Bluebird fell from the sky_ **

 

Chicago 

**_August 6, 1946_ **

 

The months flew, as fast as the little bird fell from its nest, because his wings were broken. 

 

Spring came, then Summer brought its warmth, but the little bird’s wings still couldn’t fly. 

 

As all those days passed and Chanyeol only worsened. 

 

It was Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or _PTSD,_ as Doctor Peres called it. 

 

It was common between war veterans, he said again. 

 

It’ll pass, he reassured. 

 

But Chanyeol couldn’t sleep at night anymore because the nightmares tore his lungs apart. If a plane flew through the sky, he would run to hide. Whenever he saw old videos from the Front on the Daily News, he started screaming. Sometimes, even common actions he did throughout his day reminded him of war and his mind would bring him back to the battleground. 

 

Chanyeol saw blood, red skies and seas, maimed bodies, corpses exploding, shelled eyes asking him why he survived when they didn’t. 

 

And in those moments he would just scream, because he didn’t know. 

 

Why him? 

 

Why him and not Bobby?

 

Why him and not Thomas, Peter or Quill? 

 

Why him and not all those millions falling under the bombings, the mortars, the rifles, the knifes? 

 

Why was he alive when so many others were _dead?_

 

What did he do to deserve that? To deserve to come back to his love, his family? To deserve a _life_? 

 

Chanyeol was no hero, he just fought as the pawn they taught him to be. He didn’t fight for his Nation or some ideal his parents handed down to him, he fought, _killed,_ to _survive,_ just like an animal would do. 

 

He asked the moon, the sun, the sky above and the stars. He asked them _why_ , _why_ him _?_ He would scream at them, pray them for an answer, but everything he received back was silence and it was tearing him apart. 

 

But every time it got too hard to breathe, Baekhyun would always be there. 

 

He was there to tell him his life mattered, that someone above saved him because he deserved to come back, to have a future, to _live_. Baekhyun listened to Chanyeol crying himself to sleep and held him as he started shaking. He was always there to make him feel safe whenever a storm came and the thunders outside scared him. He was there to remind him how much he loved him and how beautiful he was, every second of his day, and he would never get tired of telling him because Baekhyun was _made_ to love him. 

 

He was his _bluebird_ , answering all those _why_ ’s. 

 

During one of those nights, Baekhyun ran to him. 

 

It was summer and storms were expected, but as soon as he heard the first thunder tear the sky’s dark cloak apart, he knew he had to run. He wore his shoes without even tying the laces and flew, passing through the streets of a dark Chicago just to reach him. Baekhyun was breathless and he could feel his lungs imploding as his heart raced too fast and the sky cried together with Chanyeol. Thunders were above him, hitting the clouds like bullets and rain was pouring so hard on him that it was even hard to breathe, but he had to go. 

 

When he found himself in front of the Park’s house and furiously knocked at the door, the old man who opened the door already understood. It was clear from his expression, from the way he gently smiled at him and worryingly looked at the stairs as Chanyeol just kept on screaming. Baekhyun was running again, almost stumbling on the rungs, but he was finally there. 

 

Sehun and Jongin were waiting outside the door, peaking inside as Baekhyun neared Chanyeol. 

 

He was on the floor, near the bed, crouched on his own legs, covering his ears with both of his hands and he just screamed, screamed and screamed, praying for those nightmares to stop and leave him alone. 

 

Baekhyun launched himself at him, sitting on the ground as he dragged him to his chest, uncaring of how drenched he was. Chanyeol felt him because he hid his face in his lover’s neck, as if it was the only safe place he had left. The smaller lulled him, kissed his forehead, whispered him reassuring words as he hugged him even tighter. Chanyeol would just flinch at every rumble of thunder, screaming at inexistent planes to stop their bombings. He was sweating and just kept his eyes closed as if he was trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from. 

 

“ _Ssh_ , Yeori-e. It’s okay, everything is okay” he whispered. 

 

“B—Baekhyunie?” Chanyeol’s voice was broken. “I’m _s—scared_ ”. 

 

“I’m here” Baekhyun told him, caressing his hair as he kept on kissing his wet forehead. “I’m here and I won’t let you go”. 

 

“T—they keep…c—coming back”

 

“I know, Love, I know” Chanyeol was clinging on him, even if his eyes were still lost in the void. “I’ll scare them away”. 

 

“B—Baekhyun they—they want to take me away from you” 

 

“They won’t, Baby, they won’t” 

 

It was hard to look at him like that: so helpless, defenceless, like a child who had just lost his mother. 

 

“Everything will be fine. If your heart can’t endure it, it’s okay to cry, but always remember that I’ll be here beside you and that I’ll never leave you. I will protect you” Baekhyun whispered once again. “You’re not alone, Chanyeol. They can’t take you away from me anymore”. 

 

When a wholehour passed, the storm departed and thunders became only a distant sound. There was silence in the room. Sehun and Jongin had left when Baekhyun asked them to and Chanyeol had stopped shaking but, as soon as the other tried to stand up, he clung onto him again, as tight as his fading strength allowed him to. 

 

“Love, you need to take your pills” he whispered softly before kissing his forehead. “You know Doctor Peres wants you to take them every night” 

 

“Can you stay here?” 

 

“Of course Baby, of course” Baekhyun took his head between his hands and was so relieved to see that little hint of a smile appearing on his lover’s face. “I promised you I’d never leave you alone”. 

 

“I love you so much, Baekhyun”. 

 

“I love you too, Chanyeol” 

 

The kiss they shared that night felt like the last. 

 

They knew it wasn’t but Chanyeol was savouring Baekhyun’s lips in the same way he dreamed to do when he left Chicago and watched him disappear as the train moved. There was passion drenched in pain, longing, fear. It felt like a kiss in the middle of the battleground, as if they could feel death coming for them, crawling at their feet like a beast. Baekhyun could feel Chanyeol’s cry in that kiss, a prayer, he was screaming just how much he needed him, craved his arms and heat. Chanyeol was asking him to take him away, to run away with him to a place with no bombings, no mortars, no corpses. A place where the sun shone, where rumbling thunders couldn’t tear the sky apart. 

 

With the moon shining outside and clusters of clouds gently swaying in the sky, Chanyeol and Baekhyun moved to the small bed in the room. The taller positioned his head on Baekhyun’s chest, with one of his arms wrapped around the other’s waist as he gently caressed his messy hair. He could feel Chanyeol’s hand trembling against his skin so he took it, holding it and gently kissing the palm. 

 

“You know, when I was little, I was already afraid of thunder” Chanyeol said. “At first, I tried to wake my dad, but he always told me to leave him alone because real men aren’t afraid of storms. _You have to fight your fears alone_ , he always said. But I was only a child, I just needed someone to tell me that everything was okay, that there was nothing to fear” 

 

Baekhyun kissed his forehead as he listened. 

 

“But then, Darwin came” and the smaller just held Chanyeol even tighter because he knew how hard that was for him. “I used to take him out of his cage during stormy nights and keep him on the bed with me, under the covers. He always cuddled up on me, licking my face and hands or making his little squeaky sounds. It was like…it was like he was trying to tell me that he was there for me, that morning would come soon” 

 

He paused. 

 

“I know I have you now and I’ll forever be grateful, but—” Baekhyun could feel Chanyeol’s breath itch as some teardrops fell on his shirt. “I just—miss him” 

 

“Come here” 

 

Chanyeol just crawled, hiding his head in the other’s neck once again. The taller was now sitting on Baekhyun’s lap, with shoulders laying on his chest, almost like a frightened child seeking comfort in his parents’ safe arms. He just kept peppering his lover's face with lingering small, soft kisses, hoping to make him feel all that love that was unceasingly flowing in his veins. 

 

“My parents never hugged me like you do” 

 

It was barely a whisper but Baekhyun had clearly heard the boy who nervously fidgeted with his fingers, holding his lover’s hand between his healthy and trembling ones. 

 

“My mom never wanted me” he continued. “She wanted to study to become an engineer, but my father and her made a mistake one night: _me_. Dad loved her but she didn’t. She didn’t love anyone but herself” 

 

Baekhyun felt his own eyes starting to water as his vision became blurred. 

 

A _mistake._

 

Chanyeol had always seen himself as nothing more than a _mistake._

 

“Her family was very conservative, they couldn’t accept the fact that their own daughter had had sex before marriage and it all worsened when she told them of her pregnancy. They just kicked her out with only a suitcase full of clothes” Chanyeol kissed Baekhyun’s hand as he talked. 

 

“She went back to my dad, crying at his door, praying for him to let her live with him. What could he have done? She was the love of his life, he would have done anything for her, even raising a child at the age of eighteen, because he was so sure she loved him in the same way he did. But she didn’t. She never did.” 

 

Baekhyun kept his forehead pressed on Chanyeol’s head, trying to stop the tears flooding his eyes. 

 

“I was born on a snowy night of late November 1925 and my mother _hated_ me” he said. “I ruined her life”. 

 

Chanyeol was talking without even crying or stopping, as if that thought was already engraved in his head and he _accepted_ it, living as a fallacy. 

 

As if they had the _right_ to hate their own son, the creature they gave life to. 

 

“When I cried, she was never there for me. She never fed me, listened to my first words, taught me how to ride a bike or sang me a lullaby. It was all my grandfather” Baekhyun just couldn’t stop crying as Chanyeol’s words kept on scratching his heart. “My father couldn’t accept the fact that I was different, that I didn’t like sports like all the other kids did. Whenever I read a book, he would tell me to go outside and play like a normal child would do. He tried to talk to me sometimes, to ask me how my day at school went, to make me meet the other kids. _He tried being a father_ , because he knew my mother didn’t even want to see me, but at some point, he just gave up”. 

 

Chanyeol paused again, kissing Baekhyun’s neck. 

 

“When my mother died, he started to hate me too” he continued. “She started to drink alcohol, too much alcohol, to go out every night and have sex with different men. Her depression was eating her up, devouring her, because I forced her into a life she didn’t want. My father knew everything. He knew she cheated on him but he couldn’t do anything, he loved her too much to let her go. So, every time she came home drunk, he would carry her to bed, change her clothes and leave her with a kiss on the forehead. When he discovered she was pregnant again, she was already too ill. He knew he would lose her”. 

 

One tear. 

 

“She gave birth to my brothers and died that same night. My father didn’t even look at them, or me. We were all at fault. We _killed_ her” Chanyeol stopped. “He started to drink too. Two years after that day he left this house and never came back. The police said it was an accident, but we all know it wasn’t. _He killed himself_ ”. 

 

Baekhyun’s sobs were the only sound that filled the room. Chanyeol stopped talking and he could feel his lover’s tears gently dropping on his head, while his chest kept on wincing. He just hid his face in his neck again, holding him and leaving delicate kisses on his skin. 

 

But Baekhyun didn’t understand. 

 

He didn’t understand why someone so wonderful had to go through that much pain. Why him? Why Chanyeol? Why that selfless soul who always thought about others instead of himself? How could he have lived with such a burden, considering himself as a _mistake_ , the cause of his parents’ death? Despite all that, Chanyeol kept on smiling and loving life, even when it has always been so cruel to him. 

 

“How can you—how can you still love life so much, after that?” He was still crying. “How, Chanyeol? When everything it has given you is pain?” 

 

“But life also gave me _you_ ” 

 

Chanyeol’s eyes were sincere as he stared at Baekhyun, gently smiling as he removed a strand of hair from his face and let his hand linger there for a while. The smaller kept looking at him, at those gentle eyes that betrayed his still young heart, at that unkept mop of hair he loved to kiss whenever they fell asleep together, at those lips that never stopped smiling despite the pain, at that scar scratching his beautiful face, the one he was learning how to sport with glory, at those big, protective hands that couldn’t stop fidgeting and the one that was now trembling between his. His heart was beating fast, running unceasingly, threatening to explode at any moment because of all that love that was overflowing from his veins. 

 

Baekhyun loved Chanyeol. 

 

He loved him more than words could tell, more than his life itself, more than the moon shining above them loved the sun. He was young and might have not known what love really was, but he swore he understood that night. 

 

_Love_ was the way he walked with his head hanged low and long limbs stumbling from time to time. _Love_ was the way his hands kept playing with themselves when he was nervous. _Love_ was how he always fixed his glasses even when they were perfectly at place. _Love_ were his words stuttering and getting caught in his mouth. _Love_ was the way the wind messed up his unkept hair. _Love_ was how he still stared at the world with wonder, with the same eyes of a child who just discovered what was there outside, and found it beautiful. 

 

_Love was Chanyeol._

 

“You’re not a mistake, _Yeori-e._ You’re the guy who preferred to read alone under the big three, the boy who spent his days looking for animals in need and saved them, the person who welcomed me into his life and made me understand how beautiful it can be, despite the pain, the horrors, the cruelty.” he whispered. “If you’re a mistake, then I’m one too, because I was made to love you”. 

 

Chanyeol just stared at him, wondering, asking every single star in the sky just _why_ Baekhyun chose him and loved him to that extent. He didn’t know, he didn’t understand, but he was ready to reciprocate that frightening but beautiful feeling his heart felt along with Baekhyun’s, as their beats resonated in unison. 

 

Baekhyun was beautiful, bathing in the moonlight coming from the window, but wearing golden halo only he owned. He was a star, fallen from that dark cloak above them, that came to him and guided him through the darkest nights, taking him where the sun shone bright. Chanyeol was entranced, mesmerised by his every curve and detail, from the little mole above his lip to the one on his thumb, and he just felt the need to touch him with his fingers, to realise that the angel he was looking at was real.   
  
And he loved _him_. 

 

_Him,_ and no one else. 

 

Baekhyun shifted, positioning himself above him and Chanyeol just traced every trait of his lover’s face with one finger, afraid that the mirage would fade away. Baekhyun smiled, kissing the point of his index and leaning in just a bit more, pressing his lips to Chanyeol’s ears and whispering, in the silence.

 

_“I want to make love to you”._

 

Chanyeol nodded, because he wanted it too. 

 

He wanted to feel their bodies as entangled as their hearts were. He wanted to touch Baekhyun’s skin like never before, exploring him and holding him as tight as he could. His lover slowly removed his lilac sweater, sitting on Chanyeol’s lap, and proceeded to unbutton his shirt too, letting his clothes fall on the floor. Baekhyun’s skin was now bare under the moon’s gaze, reflecting its light and Chanyeol couldn’t help but stare, entranced, as his eyes burned like the sun on the other’s body. The smaller unbuttoned Chanyeol’s shirt too, leaving his upper body completely naked under his stare, but the soldier diverted his eyes. 

 

His skin was marked, tore apart by scars, bullet holes, burns. 

 

Chanyeol couldn’t find the courage to look at the man above him but, when he started to kiss his every wound, a strand of tears left his eyes. Baekhyun loved him even when he felt like a _monster._

 

“Don’t ever be ashamed. _You’re beautiful_ ” he whispered, planting one more kiss. “Just like a flower”. 

 

Their stares met when their lips were only millimetres apart and, with the sound of the rain starting to pour once again, Baekhyun just dried one of those falling tears and kissed him, slowly, a bit insecure. Chanyeol’s hands were ghosting on the other’s skin, almost afraid to touch him, but as their lips locked more strongly, they found their place on his naked skin, savouring and treasuring it in all its parts. Chanyeol pulled him even closer, their limbs and hearts tangled, and Baekhyun brushed his thumb over the soldier’s scar, tracing it. They were lost in that feeling, in the need to taste each other for the first time and the moon almost turned its back at them as the rain sang the soundtrack of the night. 

 

 

That night, the two lovers coalesced and became one as thunders scratched the sky, but they couldn’t hear them, because only the sound of their hearts beating as one echoed in the room. It was sweet, frightening, magical. The slow movements increased their speed as Chanyeol took the lead, shifting Baekhyun over but never leaving his lips and their breaths caressed each other’s face for a second as they whispered their hushed promise:

 

_“I love you”._

 

◉

 

 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Kyungsoo asked, looking at his brother. 

 

“Of course!” he said determined “I want to make him happy”. 

 

The two siblings were standing in front of a small shop, its red door stood out amongst the other buildings. _Red Door - Animal Shelter_ was written with a dark shade of pink on a sunshade and Baekhyun couldn’t help but smile. A few days passed since Chanyeol had confessed how much he missed his dear Darwin and he was determined to make him happy again. Even if his small friend could have never been replaced, he hoped a new one would bring him peace and safety during stormy nights. The boy spent hours trying to find the right shelter, specifically one that kept homeless puppies saved from the streets. Chanyeol’s grandfather was adamant at first but, when Baekhyun explained his reasons, the man accepted and the twins screaming “ _A puppy! A puppy!”_ erupted from the other line. 

 

“How is Chanyeol doing?” the younger brother asked again and Baekhyun’s smile suddenly turned darker. 

 

“He—he’s getting better” his voice was hesitant. “Chanyeol is a fighter, I know he will heal” 

 

“Does he still have…nightmares?” 

 

“Yeah” Baekhyun looked at the blue sky above, trying to hold back his tears. He promised he would never cry again in front of his brother, he had to do it for Junmyeon. “Mr. Park said he’s only able to sleep when I’m with him. Jongin told me that he’s staying with him in his room lately, only at night, to keep him company and calm him down in case a nightmare comes”. 

 

Kyungsoo’s cheeks suddenly reddened as he diverted his eyes from Baekhyun. 

 

“I—Is Jongin doing fine, too?” 

 

Baekhyun knew of Kyungsoo’s crush on Chanyeol’s brother. Whenever he came to fetch him from school, the older brother noticed how the other always seemed to be staring at someone in particular, someone that always threw a tantrum because of his constant fights with his twin. 

 

Kyungsoo was a quite kid, the kind of person that didn’t enjoy being at the center of attention and preferred to avoid distractions to concentrate on his studies. He was usually grumpy, a bit cold at first, but behind that iron armor a pure and soft heart was hiding. Jongin was just like him: studious, hardworking, serious and, as Kyungsoo himself admitted, _very cute whenever he wore his glasses._ Baekhyun smiled, thinking of all those times he saw Kyungsoo blushing after Jongin waved at him, cutely hiding his face in the collar of his big jacket. Junmyeon and him used to affectionately laugh at him whenever he came asking them how he should dress up for school and, even if he always lied about the reasons behind such a fuss in the morning, they perfectly knew it was because of his crush. Junmyeon always fixed his tie, making the perfect knot, but Baekhyun never learned how to properly do it. When their older brother disappeared, it was Baekhyun’s duty to help him, but he always messed up the process and ended up sporting a stressed expression on his face. Kyungsoo always told him it was fine, that he was old enough to learn how to do it by himself, and Baekhyun couldn’t help but think about how he would never be like Junmyeon. He was the perfect source of inspiration, that kind of older sibling to look up to: diligent, responsible, handsome and with a stable career ahead of him. 

 

Baekhyun didn’t like any of those things and it was hard to not wish that things had ended up differently. 

 

During the darkest of nights, Baekhyun used to think that, _maybe_ , it would have been better if he had died instead of him. 

 

Kyungsoo knew about all those times his brother cried himself to sleep and he always made sure to slide under the blanket with him, only to hold him tight. 

 

“Aww, my little _Kyungie_ still has a crush on cute Jongin?” he said, lips curving as he reached the kid’s collar and fixed it. “Is falling for the Parks a brother-bonding activity?” 

 

“I d—don’t have a crush on him!” Kyungsoo stuttered, slapping Baekhyun’s hands away. “You’re the one who’s whipped for his Park-Boyfriend!” 

 

“Oh, I admit I am” and he walked away with a wink. 

 

As soon as they walked in, various cries coming from different animals filled the room. The lady that welcomed them listened to Baekhyun talking about the kind of pet he was looking for and then proceeded to guide them through a long corridor filled with cages. There were rabbits, cats, birds, dogs and even some hamsters but, as soon as his eyes fell on a specific individual, his heart swelled. Baekhyun stopped in front of the small cage, crouching down even if his brother and the owner kept on walking, as they conversed about the healthiest animals they had in store. 

 

“Hi, little one” he whispered.   
  
It was a Golden Retriever puppy, probably not even older than five months, but what caught his attention was the fact that it was the only dog that stood in the dark. It wasn’t sleeping, but those eyes betrayed sadness, loneliness and fear. 

 

“Hey, puppy” Baekhyun whispered again. “Are you doing good, in there?” 

 

The dog slowly raised his head when Baekhyun offered his hand, inserting it through the bars. 

 

“I…I don’t think you’d want to adopt that one” he didn’t even realise the two had gone back to were he was and, that observation had caught him off guard.

 

“Why wouldn’t I want him?” 

 

“He’s disabled” she said. “Congenital malformation, one of his legs never grew. We have healthier puppies if you would like to come with—“   
  
“I want him” he stated, his eyes still focused on the puppy who was now slowly walking towards him. One of his back legs was missing, making it hard for him to walk, and he could almost read it all through his sad eyes. 

 

He looked so much like Chanyeol. 

 

Beautiful but misunderstood. 

 

“He’s the one I’m looking for” Baekhyun told the woman, turning back to the small dog again.

 

It felt weird when, as soon as he held the puppy’s paw, he seemed to be smiling, waving his tail in the air. 

 

“You’re coming home with me, little boy. I know someone who will love you more than anyone else ever will”. 

 

 

◉

 

 

It was hard. 

 

Everything was hard. 

 

Doing all those things he used to do was suddenly hard. 

 

Chanyeol’s leg hurt so bad that night, after the nightmare he had gone through. It hurt so hard to be forced to walk with the cane Doctor Peres provided him with. He always refused to use it. All those eyes looking at him with pity, sadly staring at the way he walked wondering what he had to go through, destroyed Chanyeol more than everything he survived during the War. The fact that he wasn’t able to walk properly, taking so much more time to run across those same streets he usually took, stumbling over the most insignificant obstacle, broke his heart in half. Chanyeol didn’t want help, he never asked anyone, not even Baekhyun, because he was scared he would have looked at him like that too. 

 

It was hard, when a small bird fell right in front of his window and he wasn’t able to plaster its little wing because of his wounded hand trembling too much. 

 

He tried, tried, tried again, but there was no way he could have done it without hurting the creature. 

 

A _monster_ who killed, a _useless_ , disabled man unable to help a little wounded bird. 

 

Chanyeol could just feed it, providing it a nest made of soft cotton and praying for the animal to recover on his own. The soldier let himself fall on the nearest chair, throwing his cane away and holding his head between both of his hands. 

 

_It was hard._

 

“ _Yeori-e!”_

 

That voice, again. 

 

The voice that kept him alive suddenly resonated in the room. 

 

Chanyeol dried some tears with his bare hands, turning to the door, where his love stood, only peeking inside with his head. 

 

“Hi, my love” he smiled, bright. “I might have a surprise for you” 

 

“A surprise?” 

 

“ _Yup_ ” Baekhyun said, popping his lips. 

 

Chanyeol was confused but, as soon as Baekhyun entered the room, everything was suddenly clear. 

 

“I think there’s someone who had been waiting for you” a giggle. “And I’m not talking about me”. 

 

Baekhyun was holding a puppy in his arms, cuddling it and cooing as if it was an actual baby. Chanyeol felt his body unconsciously lean toward the animal as his lover walked to him. He felt like the puppy was looking at him, locking their eyes together. 

 

“I know Darwin was the best friend you’ve ever had and if I could I would do _anything_ to bring him back to you” he smiled, again. “But new friends can be just as great” 

 

The dog was silent, but his tail was waving happily as he stared at Chanyeol and stretched his paws toward him, as if asking to be hold. Baekhyun moved the puppy to his arms with delicacy, letting him lay on his chest, before leaving a gentle kiss on his forehead, and the puppy licked his face too, as if it was trying to imitate what Baekhyun just did. The soldier looked at the animal again, smiling brightly at him and petting his head. 

 

But suddenly, Chanyeol noticed that one of his legs was missing. 

 

“He was standing in the dark and didn’t even try to catch my attention. I felt like he just gave up, as if sure no one would have ever come for him. ” Baekhyun confessed while Chanyeol caressed the dog. “He reminded me of you. _Beautiful but misunderstood”_

 

The taller of the two hugged the dog to his chest, leaning on his small head as he kept on caressing his fur, protectively shielding him from the world. 

 

“ _You saved him, too_ ” Chanyeol said, smiling but with a hint of tears in his eyes. 

 

Baekhyun leaned in, kissing his lover on the lips, slowly, passionately and sweetly, conveying all his feeling in a gesture that looked so simple and natural. As he stared at Chanyeol looking at the puppy, he saw that light that used to shine so bright in his eyes and, even if it was still faint, it was still there, trying to break free from the darkness that surrounded it. 

 

“So, what’s his name?” 

 

“Charles Henry Turner _”_ he answered. “But we can call him just Turner” 

 

“Why do you always choose the weirdest names?” 

 

“What?! He was  research  biologist , educator,  zoologist , and  comparative psychologist !” his face was so funny to look at. “That’s not a weird name, Baekhyun! It’s an important name!” 

 

Baekhyun just smiled, kissing him on the forehead. His heart felt at peace. 

 

_His_ Chanyeol was finally coming back. 

 

 

◉

 

 

After all those tormented nights, Baekhyun was both surprised and relieved to see Chanyeol asleep on the sofa, with Turner cuddled up on his chest and his muzzle hiding in the boy’s neck. He giggled softly, drying some plates with a towel as he stared at the scene in front of him. The rest of the Park family went out for the night, deciding to give them a bit of time to spend together, and Baekhyun cooked a Chicago’s Depp Dish Pizza for the both of them. Looking at Chanyeol savouring what he himself made felt peaceful, as if they were in their own small world, and Baekhyun couldn’t help but think that it was exactly what his heart hoped for the future: his lover and him coming back from work, cooking and eating dinner together, while Turner tried to climb on their legs to steal some food. 

 

It felt _right_ , meant to be. 

 

He turned his eyes back to Chanyeol’s sleeping form and his heart flooded with happiness when he noticed that he wasn’t moving, nor sweating or trying to run away from some monsters in his dreams. There were no screams, he was at peace, and Baekhyun prayed for his love to slowly heal and come back to him completely. The smaller boy let the dried plate lay on the table and neared the sofa, sitting next to Chanyeol and positioning his head on the other’s chest, sharing his place with a sleeping Turner. Baekhyun caressed both of them, admiring what felt like the first peace of their own little _family._

 

Many minutes passed as he stared at them, bathing in that peaceful feeling of protection and blissfulness. 

 

The clock ticking made him realise how late it was: eleven in the evening. Baekhyun raised his back, laying his lips on Chanyeol’s face and dropping light kisses all over his skin, from his cheeks and neck to his forehead, gently waking him up. 

 

“It’s bath time, baby” he whispered as Chanyeol’s eyes slowly opened, gifting him the most blinding smile he had ever seen. 

 

“Already?” the taller mumbled, moving Turner to his lap and shifting until he was laying on Baekhyun’s chest, hugging his waist. “I’m sleepy” 

 

“I know, love, but I won’t sleep with you if you stink” he said, kissing Chanyeol’s hair. 

 

“I will take a bath only if you join me in the tub” 

 

“Oh? Getting bold, I see. I thought I was dating that shy boy that fell from his bike and stuttered even when I asked for his name” 

 

“That boy wants to live his Baekhyunie-filled life at its fullest” 

 

“And that boy needs to take a bath right now!” he said, taking Turner in his arms as he pulled Chanyeol on his feet. “You like me babying you a little too much” 

 

“ _Definitely”_ Chanyeol leaned in, kissing Baekhyun’s cheek. “But you’re still coming with me”

 

“You’re such a giant baby”. 

 

“But you love me!” he said, before stealing a rapid kiss and rapidly limping towards the bathroom. Baekhyun shook his head, still carrying Turner in his arms as he followed him, smiling brightly at that carefree Chanyeol he longed to see. 

 

The couple filled the tub with hot water and a lot of soap to create foam, just like Baekhyun’s mom used to do when he was still a child. A gentle smell of flowers filled the room as Turner played with the small rug right in front of the slightly opened door. Just like a child would do, Chanyeol threw away his clothes, jumping in the foam-filled water with an excited expression and relaxing at the warm sensation. 

 

“What are you waiting for? Jump in!” he exclaimed, looking at Baekhyun who still had all his clothes on. 

 

“Ah, men” a dramatic sigh. “You make love to them once and they suddenly want more!” 

 

Chanyeol laughed, blowing some foam in the direction of his lover. Baekhyun proceeded to get rid of his clothes and the boy in the tub suddenly got shy, remembering their first night and the way Baekhyun’s naked body moved on top of his. It was hard to not look at him when, for Chanyeol, he was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes on, but the heat spreading through his cheeks was enough to make him stare at the water in front of him. He heard Baekhyun’s steps coming closer and suddenly his face was right in front of Chanyeol’s, while two of the other’s fingers were seductively holding his chin. 

 

“Suddenly getting shy?” he whispered, making Chanyeol feel hot. 

 

“N—no” 

 

“You already saw it all, no need to pretend you weren’t looking” 

 

Baekhyun kissed him sensually on the lips, still holding his chin up high and Chanyeol’s fingers unconsciously reached for the other’s hair, pulling him closer. The smaller entered the bubbly water, with such a seductive gaze that made Chanyeol want to drown right there, because those eyes were too much to handle. Baekhyun positioned himself on his lover’s chest but Chanyeol could still see a part of his behind emerging from the water. The room suddenly felt hotter when the boy proceeded to attack his neck with kisses. The real purpose of the bath was long forgotten as they dived into each other’s lips, with Baekhyun’s body pressed to Chanyeol’s, who was now caressing him, still gently, despite the passion they shared with that kiss. Baekhyun looked like a god above him, with drops dripping from his slightly tanned skin and some foam on his hair, as he broke their lips apart, staring at Chanyeol. 

 

“I see you staring at my butt, Park Chanyeol” he whispered, biting his lips. 

 

“I—It’s a bit hard to not look at it since it’s right in front of my face” Chanyeol managed to say despite the red flush spreading across his face. 

 

“Loving what you see, then?” 

 

“Very” 

 

They kissed again, slower this time, as Baekhyun’s arms wrapped around Chanyeol’s neck, pulling him against his body even more. They could feel their racing heartbeats running against each other’s chest as they savoured the taste of their lips, treasuring the skin under their hands. 

 

The situation escalated quickly when their intimate parts started to touch but, suddenly, the sound of little paws against the floor resonated in the room. 

 

Before they could even realise, a splash of water erupted from the tub as Turner jumped in the bubbly tub, happily barking at them. Baekhyun fell against Chanyeol’s chest because of how hard he laughed and the other followed, holding him closer as the puppy licked their faces. 

 

“Is this how having a child feels like?” Baekhyun giggled, laying his back on Chanyeol. “No more intimate moments for the parents, I guess” 

 

“Are you already jealous of our child?” Chanyeol asked, holding Baekhyun with one arm and using his other one to pet Turner, who was enthusiastically playing with bubbles. 

 

“No, it just means that I now have two giant babies to take care of” 

 

“Okay, _daddy_ ” he laughed, splashing some water to Baekhyun’s face.

 

“Call me that one more time and I’ll dump you on the spot” 

 

Their laughter filled the silent house around them and the night didn’t seem so scary anymore. Chanyeol was caressing Baekhyun’s skin under the water and Turner kept playing in the tub. The sounds of the battleground seemed to be so far away by then, as if they were just a background noise at the back of his head. In that moment, in front of him, there was only a future that shined bright, full of sunlight, where a rainbow always came after the rain. A place were there was no pain nor fears, where monsters stopped chasing him and crawling at his feet. 

 

There was Baekhyun and the life they destined to spend together. 

 

But, just as light shines, darkness is bound to come again. 

 

 

◉

 

 

The air was exceptionally cold for an august morning. 

 

It was piercing, shooting pins against his skin, but he had to go. 

 

Chanyeol had always refused. 

 

He refused to reach that place and sit in front of his most terrifying fear, the creature that ate him alive every single night. He wanted to avoid everything related to his trauma, thinking that pretending that maybe it was only a nightmare would help him. 

 

But it never did and Chanyeol found himself standing in front of Chicago’s Rosehill Cemetery. 

 

He left Baekhyun with a kiss on his forehead that same morning, when the sun was still sleeping and the city was enveloped by a red veil. 

 

Another dream, the thousandth one, had haunted him that night. 

 

The soldier saw tombs, aligned on a wide grass field, but they were all deprived of names. Those graves were just white, like the fallen angels of a celestial war, resting until the end of time as a bare number. There were voices around him, calling for his name, praying him to come back for them, as if they were still trying to survive and he was the last remaining soldier able to help them. 

 

So, Chanyeol wore his shoes and the first sweater he found in the closet and just ran, even if it hurt, because they needed him, they were _waiting_ for him. With the cold morning air hurting his skin, the poor soldier rushed through the asleep streets of Chicago until he arrived in the place where his most haunting fears rested. A part of him was shouting to run away from there, to go back to Baekhyun and tuck himself in his safe arms, but he knew he had to do it. 

 

For Baekhyun, for himself, for their future. 

 

Chanyeol walked slowly, limping and dragging his leg behind him and it all felt so oddly familiar that he almost threw up. The white tombs were alining in front of him, like soldiers ready to attack and he had to stop, because those voices suddenly felt louder, defeating, excruciating, burning his skin like fire. Chanyeol felt all his wounds coming alive again, throbbing blood from every cut on his skin, blazing under the cold air as the world started to spin faster. 

 

The odor of gunpowder mixed with fresh blood infested everything around him, oozing from his own body and hacks, snaring, trapping and strangling his lungs. 

 

Chanyeol held his chest, pressing his hand where the heart stood, praying for it to stop beating so hard because he had to walk, to run to them. With his body aching, the boy plodded through the dirt streets of the small cemetery while bombs fell at his feet and mortars shoot at his direction, making him fall to the ground. 

 

Suddenly, a hand laid on his shoulder. 

 

“ _Hey! Wake up!”_

 

It was a distant voice that shouted louder than all the dying soldiers, that erupted against the explosions and the shots, that was trying to keep him alive. 

 

_“It’s not real!”_

 

It wasn’t real. 

 

_“It’s not real!”_

 

It wasn’t, nothing around him was real. The airplanes weren’t letting bombs fall from the sky, grenades weren’t exploding with soldiers, his wounds weren’t oozing blood and all those voices were only in his head. 

 

The world suddenly stopped swirling, leaving him out of breath. 

 

“Are you okay?” 

 

Chanyeol only nodded. 

 

“You’re Chanyeol, right?” another nod. 

 

The soldier slowly calmed down, sitting on the ground with that man next to him. When his eyes gained their vision back, he turned around and looked at the other properly, realising how familiar that face was. 

 

“Yixing?” 

 

Chanyeol remembered him as one of Baekhyun’s friends and Minseok’s lover, the same man that was at _Siena’s_ the night of the accident, sipping a Martini in his elegant clothes.

 

He only nodded, moving his gaze to the row of tombs in front of him. 

 

“It never goes away, doesn’t it?” he said, quietly. “You think you’re doing fine, that everything is just a background noise in your head, but one night you fall asleep and it all comes back again” 

 

Chanyeol looked ahead of him, where all the white graves were aligned like soldiers marching.

 

“You were there too?” the boy asked. 

 

“4th Division, Germany. Four years of service” Yixing’s voice was clear, no sign of hesitation. “Those selfish bastards killed thousands for their sick, spoiled kids’ games but then they bury their own sons’ corpses in a row of nameless pieces of stone and they think their consciences are clear. Monuments, plates, medals, all _shit_. They act like they care, as if they ever hesitated to send hordes of kids at the slaughterhouse to prove whose dick was bigger”. 

 

The man’s words felt like daggers, full of anger despite the stoic, emotionless expression he was sporting. 

 

“They destroyed my youth, fucked me up and made me lose a leg for a game I didn’t want to play, while they rested their fat butts on their expensive leather chairs, sipping a cup of tea as thousands of soldiers were being murdered like slaughter pigs” he spat out, kicking the topsoil with his healthy foot. Chanyeol noticed how one of his legs looked stiff, as if it was made of iron, and how he laid all his weight on the opposite part of his body. 

 

“And what do I receive back? A fucking piece of aluminium sprayed with gold paint and the honour of feeling like a disgusting monster every time I look at my face in the mirror. They forced me to _kill_ and I did it in order to not _get killed_ , only to come back to what? My precious, meaningless life here? _Tsk,_ I shot people in front of a fucking wall while I looked at them in the face, I was the last thing they saw before going to Hell, a place where I should be too”. 

 

He stopped. 

 

“Every time I close my eyes, I see them staring at me. They pray for me to spare them and I always say _“these are my orders”_. Then, nothing. They’re just lying there, with a hole in their head and their blood smashed on the wall behind them. I still ask myself _why_ I did that, _why_ did I obey? But the answer is always the same: I was selfish, like they all were, like they forced me to be, like _fear_ forced me to be. It was rather them or me and I always chose myself” a cold wind blow hit them. “I was there when Americans entered the concentration camps. I saw it all, Chanyeol. I saw something that still haunts me more than this whole war ever will”. 

 

Chanyeol suddenly turned around. 

 

Yixing was motionless, still looking at the field in front of him, but he could see his tensed jaw and the way his body seemed to be slightly trembling. 

 

Chanyeol never saw the concentration camps. 

 

When they freed the prisoners, he had already been hospitalised. 

 

He heard those stories. He knew what they did to them, how Germany and Italy tried so hard to hide it all, how citizens pretended not to notice the scary, black smoke and that smell of death that infested the air. The government showed them videos, photos, advertising about the camps. They told them how well Jewish people were treated, that they voluntarily went there to work and that they were building a better life for themselves. 

 

And they believed them. 

 

They believed them even if they all knew it was a lie. 

 

“I saw those stacks of bodies, those shapeless skeletons, piled up like debris. The odor there wasn’t like the one on the battleground, it was worse. It wasn’t just the smell of death, but _decomposition_. They stripped them of their identity and made them an army of walking dead marked by a bare number, they killed them with gas, like _insects_ ” he said, but his voice was slowly becoming weaker. “We saved a few. More than 17 million died. When we went back to the base, I took a gun. I walked in front of that same wall and pointed it at my head. But do you know what I did, Chanyeol? Nothing. I never shot and you know why? Because I didn’t want to die. I killed hundreds but I still didn’t have enough courage to kill _myself”_

 

_“_ If you didn’t have enough courage to kill yourself, then live for those who couldn’t” Chanyeol’s voice was serious, staring at the man next to him. “Do you think they’d appreciate the fact that you had the chance to live and wasted it? You did what you had to do, Yixing, like we all did. This doesn’t make us less of a monster, but at least have the courage to keep on living the life they lost”. 

 

“It’s easy for you to talk” he said, letting out a bitter laugh. “You have a reason to keep on living and that’s Baekhyun. He told me how the thought of coming back to him was what kept you alive out there, but I have nothing, Chanyeol. I don’t have someone that loves me more than anything else in the world, who’s willing to listen to my fucking screams at night or hold me when everything around me is collapsing. The only family I had was my father and he died on the battleground after not even a month. I have nothing, I _am_ nothing” 

 

“What about Minseok and Jongdae, then?” 

 

“Jongdae has been in love with the same person for years but he died during the war, too. Minseok will never, truly love anyone other than himself. They’re good people, what we have is fun and we’re all friends, but none of us ever has feelings for the other two” Yixing admitted. “What you have is a gift, Chanyeol, despite what the rest of the world says. Treasure it. You both deserve it”. 

 

Yixing looked at him one more time, raising his hand as a greeting and then, just like that, he walked away. 

 

Chanyeol stared at him disappearing in the distance, his words still engraved in the air around him. 

 

With the souls of dead soldiers singing in choir, Chanyeol understood that none of them would ever come back from the battleground. 

 

They were all ghosts, floating amid life and death, in the middle between past and future. 

 

◉

 

 

Just like spring, summer flew away and welcomed winter’s cold breeze once again. 

 

It was still hard for Chanyeol. 

 

His nightmares and following crisis never stopped and they got so bad to they point that he had to accept to take heavier antidepressants, but medicines only worsened his physical health. Chanyeol had to throw up almost every time but, sometimes, it got even worse: dizziness, insomnia, tremors, heavy headaches, making it impossible for him to even stand up on his own feet. 

 

But Baekhyun was always there. 

 

Despite how tired he was after a heavy day of work, Baekhyun would always make sure to ride his bike toward the Parks’ house and hold Chanyeol through the night. He couldn’t even sleep, constantly checking his temperature, his sweating, running with him to the bathroom every time his lover’s stomach rejected the medicines.

 

He didn’t care. 

 

He didn’t care, because he promised to hold Chanyeol’s hands through the darkest of times and be his light, no matter how hard it was. 

 

Every night, he would watch Chanyeol slowly falling asleep as he kissed his forehead, lulling in that warm feeling their closeness brought, finally finding his peace knowing that his lover felt safe. As they all kept telling him, Chanyeol would sleep only between his arms and no nightmares ever came, as long as he was there. Turner slept on the bed with them too, staring at his owner and making sure that he closed his eyes, resting his muzzle on the boy’s lap as Baekhyun gently caressed him. It almost was like Turner understood it all, imitating Baekhyun’s gestures and actions through every crisis, helping him sleep at night or bringing Chanyeol his cane before they left the house for their morning walk. Every time Chanyeol’s flashbacks haunted him, Turner was always ready to lick his face and hands, hiding his head in the soldier’s neck, as if he was trying to hug him like Baekhyun did. Whenever a storm came, Turner was there, jumping on Chanyeol’s bed as soon as the first thunder struck, positioning his growing body on the boy’s chest and kissing his face until he laughed, distracting him from everything that was happening in the sky. 

 

As Chanyeol looked at Turner grow, running in grass fields with no care of the world, he started to realise that, maybe, his wounds weren’t something to be ashamed of. Turner walked without one leg, looking beautiful with the sun shining on his light fur, and, if possible, Chanyeol loved him even more because of his peculiarities. When they strolled the city together, their clumsy steps were coordinated and the boy almost forgot about all those people staring at him, because Turner just made him feel _normal._

 

Taking care of a life that wasn’t his, the life of something that depended so much on him, made him able to put his dark thoughts aside. During those fleeting moments, Chanyeol didn’t feel like a monster. Instead of taking a life away, he was gifting another being with one. 

 

It made him feel _human_ again. 

 

That night, Chanyeol was sitting on the sofa with Turner laying on his legs, even if he was already too big to fit in. The boy was absentmindedly caressing the dog’s head as _Chicago TV News_ played on the television, only as a bare background noise to his grandfather cooking some pasta for dinner and the twins sitting in front of the screen with their legs crossed, fighting over the new purchase. 

 

“It’s my turn tonight, Jongin!” Sehun exclaimed. “You already watched that stupid _Howdy Doody_ show today!” 

 

“ _Howdy Doody_ isn’t stupid!” 

 

“Oh, right. A show with dancing puppets. It surely isn’t stupid when you’re _FOUR!”_

 

“It’s surely better than _The original amateur hour!_ Why would we listen to random people singing out of tune for a whole hour?!” 

 

“Excuse me?! That’s a very entertaining show! You just have the same tastes as a baby!” 

 

Chanyeol couldn’t help but laugh at his brothers jumping on each other, realising just how much he missed those tantrums during all the years he spent away. Some nights on the battleground, when the fear for the next day was too much to endure, the soldier would look at the sky above, imagining his brothers running around the house as their grandfather screamed at them from the kitchen and Baekhyun cuddled up in his arms, laughing with him at the scene. It was during those brief seconds that Chanyeol forgot about the pain and just let himself be lulled by that faint scent of home. 

 

“Jongin, it’s your brother’s turn!” the old man exclaimed. “And Sehun, please stop calling Jongin’s tv shows stupid! He just has…a weird passion for clowns!” 

 

“Grandpa!” Jongin whined, making Chanyeol chuckle even harder as Turner softly barked. 

 

The man slightly giggled too but then his attention was suddenly caught by the television. Chanyeol followed his gaze as Jongin and Sehun went silent, watching the images changing on the screen. 

 

“ _Picasso’s Guernica just reached our city’s Museum of Contemporary Art for a temporary exhibition, after travelling all the way around Europe and the United States”_ the announcer’s voice said. _“Guernica is a massive work, measuring 3.5 metres and 7.8 metres and, despite the different interpretations, the symbolism created by the painter, Picasso, was a way to express his outrage over the Nazis and the_ War _”_

 

Black and white. 

 

Everything suddenly black and white. 

 

The world was deprived of colours, screaming and oozing with blood. 

 

A woman screaming at a God that turned their back at them, a bull pierced by jagged shrapnel, standing over a wailing mother with a dead child in her arms, a horse whinnying in agony, the shattered remnants of a massacred soldier whose hand still held a broken sword, a mutilated palm engraved with Christ’s stigmata, blazing lights falling from the sky and destroying everything mercilessly. 

 

Martyrdom. 

 

The martyrdom of children who still didn’t know what the world was. 

 

Chanyeol’s heart started to race as the air around him suddenly turned into dust and everything around him suddenly became blurry, his vision filled with only that painting. He could distantly hear his brothers and grandfather screaming at him but everything was in slow-motion and the images glitched. 

 

Suddenly, the twins were soldiers running away from the bombs and his grandfather’s voice was the one of a general commanding the action. 

 

_Fire!_

 

_Fire!_

 

_Fire!_

 

He was in front of a little girl that stood behind a window. The world around him was exploding, soldiers kept falling after the bullets and that child looked at him with so much fear, with young eyes that still couldn’t understand. Her face was dirty with soil, just like that red coat she was wearing. 

 

A shot. 

 

One at his leg. 

 

One at the little girl’s head. 

 

She fell like a dead leaf from a three, her blood tinting the window with red, the only colour he could see. 

 

Black, white and _red._

 

_“Jongin, call Baekhyun!”_

 

It was a distant voice he heard through the pain, the pain of a bullet devouring his muscles. The girl was still behind that window, but drowning in her own blood that stained her coat, her lifeless eyes staring at him, sucking and eating his soul. 

 

Suddenly, everything was just black. 

 

 

◉

 

 

“You’re seriously buying him gifts for St. Valentine’s day?” 

 

“Of course!” 

 

“Oh, _gay-lord,_ you’re such a giant cheese ball” Minseok said, dramatically rotating his eyes. “Not even _UTZ Cheese Balls_ can be compared to you” 

 

“I’m not a giant cheese ball!” Baekhyun replied, choosing the best-looking, heart-shaped box of chocolates on the shelf. “I just…love my boyfriend and I want to make him happy, surprising him with chocolates and a bouquet of flowers because he’s as pretty as them” 

“In my dictionary, that’s what _cheesy_ means and, if I may add, _whipped like cream_ fits too” the older man was mockingly looking at his friend, who was too concentrated on his chocolates to notice that it had already been one hour since they entered the store. “You even bought him a dog” 

 

“I just adopted one for him. He loves animals and he lost his pet, It was the least I could do for him” 

 

“ _Aaah”_ he sighed. “The things you do for a man’s dick” 

 

“ _Excuse you_ , I don’t want his dick only!” 

 

“Because you already got it, right?” a mischievous grin appeared on the man’s face as he neared Baekhyun’s. “How big is he? Judging from his height, he must be _big_ in all areas” 

 

The younger hit him with the box of chocolates, making the other laugh. His cheeks reddened at the bare thought of all those nights they spent together, sharing an intimacy that went beyond words. Chanyeol caressing his every curve, treasuring his body as if it was made of diamonds and making him feel like the most beautiful creature on Earth with the way his eyes grazed Baekhyun’s naked skin. 

 

“You’re thinking about it, I can see it in your eyes!” 

 

“Stop!” he whispered, walking toward the cash desk and embarrassingly smiling at the assistant. 

 

As they exited the shop with bags full of chocolates — because Baekhyun _obviously_ had to buy the largest box they had in store — the sun was already going down, tinting the sky of a red shade. Minseok stopped for a moment to admire the expanse of clouds above them, making Baekhyun slow down too. 

 

“Yixing told me he met Chanyeol at the cemetery, in the military area” Minseok said, voice low. “He goes there every day and a few months ago he found Chanyeol there too, bent over a tomb in pain. He sees him at least once every week now, always just after the sunrise” 

 

Baekhyun lowered his head. “He never told me” 

 

“How is he doing?” the man’s tone was hesitant. 

 

“He’s…fighting” it was hard not to cry when Chanyeol’s screams still echoed in his head. “The medicines are strong. Sometimes it’s hard for him to take them. I asked him so many times if he wanted to just…stop taking them but he keeps saying that he wants to heal. For his family, me and our future” 

 

“I’m—I’m afraid he will never heal, Baekhyun” 

 

It hurt. 

 

It hurt because he _knew_. 

 

He _knew_ Chanyeol’s pain would have never faded away. 

 

“I know” he whispered, drying one falling tear from his eyes, still looking at the ground beneath his feet. “He just has to…learn how to live with it and I’ll help him. I will never leave him alone” 

 

“He’s lucky to have you, Baekhyun” Minseok said, hugging his friend with one arm and letting the other’s head lie on his chest. 

 

“I’m lucky to have him, too” 

 

As the sun set, the two started to walk down the street that led to _White Daffodil_ , with Minseok still holding Baekhyun from his shoulders. The wintery breeze of the first days of February dried the tears on the smaller’s face, giving him peace as he enjoyed the feeling it brought to his skin. When the little shop appeared in the distance, Baekhyun noticed something weird. 

 

It was closed. 

 

All the lights were on, but the small sign was already dangling from outside the door. 

 

Baekhyun walked faster while Minseok followed and, as soon as he stood in front of the door, he noticed his brother’s panicked expression from outside. He was leaning on the counter, holding his head with both hands as the phone laid next to him. Baekhyun pushed the door open, making the little bell ring, and he saw Kyungsoo’s expression change as he run to him. 

 

“Hyung!” he screamed. “Hyung you have to run!” 

 

“Wait, Kyungsoo, what do you—“

 

“It’s Chanyeol” his voice was panicked. “He had another crisis”. 

 

Before he could even realise, his feet were already running. 

 

He could distantly hear Minseok following him, but he was already too far away. Baekhyun could feel his heart beating erratically in his throat, throbbing uncontrollably as his mind kept thinking about Chanyeol and how much he hated himself for not being there when he needed him the most. His lover’s painful screams were scratching his insides, tormenting his brain like the most cruel of nightmares, piercing, hurting, destroying. Some of his tears flew away in the wind as he kept on running, even if his breath was short and it was hard to keep that speed, but the thought of Chanyeol being in pain was haunting him. 

 

If only he had came home sooner. 

 

If only he had decided to go looking for his gift some other day.

 

If only he had stayed there that night. 

 

All those ifs were floating around his head, like a hurricane tormenting his insides, and it was all his fault. Baekhyun just kept running in the cold air of February, even if his legs were giving out and his chest felt like exploding.

 

But suddenly, something blocked his way. 

 

Baekhyun abruptly stopped, almost falling to the ground as he raised his head, looking at the obstacle that was now keeping him away from Chanyeol. 

 

His heart got caught in his throat. 

 

“Oh? Look who’s here” 

 

“Paul?” 

 

Paul Hampsten, the same guy that tried to bed him multiple times during high school, despite having sex with tons of girls and declaring himself as _straight_ and a _homophobic._ His tall stance overhang Baekhyun but he didn’t feel like Chanyeol, so warm and protective. The man was intimidating, hovering him like a commander, making the smaller boy want to disappear. Chanyeol was like the sun shining above him, while Paul felt like a monster waiting to devour his flesh. 

 

“ _Baekhyun-ie”_ his voice pronounced it with such a disgusting tone, low but almost derisive. “It has been years” 

 

Baekhyun’s eyes stared at the ground as two other men neared them, in the middle of the street, with the moon as the only other presence in that dark road. 

 

“I’m sorry I have to—“ he tried to escape, but Paul’s hand grabbed his shoulder, crushing it with the force of a boa. 

 

“Oh no, _Baekhyun-ie_ , where do you think you’re going?” the man said, grinning. “Can’t you spare two minutes of your time for an old friend?” 

 

“I—”

 

“Are you running to your _faggot_ of a friend? Or, should I say, _boyfriend_?” 

 

Baekhyun stopped. 

 

“You know, _Baekhyun-ie”_ he started, putting his hands inside the pockets of his trousers. “I saw you two the day the first train from Chicago left for the front, I was there too. Voices spread too on the battleground, it’s even worse than high school! And you know what people said about him, mhh?” 

 

It was hard to breathe. Paul’s words were sucking Baekhyun’s air, draining his lungs. 

 

“They said he was _ill_ , _mental_ , because he liked _dicks._ He had to be _punished”_ Paul’s finger reached for his chin, holding it. “You know, I was a Commander there. I sat my ass on a chair and gave orders, reading the newspaper or fucking some chick as others died for our dear America. I also had the luck to be assigned to the same division as your friend” 

 

The smaller felt like dying. 

 

“What could have I done? _Faggots_ shouldn’t be in the army, _Baekhyun-ie,_ you know that too” 

 

Baekhyun’s breath itched as one tear fell from his eyes. 

 

“So, I gave him a lesson. Me and five other people, _Baekhyun-ie._ We beat him up until he wasn’t even able to stand up anymore” Paul was _laughing._ “I could have killed him on the spot but I decided that seeing him slaughtered by a machine gun on the battleground would be _funnier_. Too bad he survived” 

 

The smaller punched him, right on the chin and so suddenly that Paul was taken aback for a second. His lower lip was bleeding and Baekhyun’s knuckles turned red as a wave of rage possessed his body like a demon. 

 

But Paul just _laughed_ again. 

 

“Feisty, I see” and then he whispered. “ _I like it_ ”. 

 

Baekhyun prayed for the ground to swallow him alive as the image of Chanyeol bleeding and hurting on the cold floor devoured his brain. It was eating him alive, munching on his bones and flesh like an animal, savouring the taste of his pain and blood. 

 

“But, _Baekhyun-ie,_ don’t you think it’s time to teach you a lesson too? _”_ Paul was tracing his finger along Baekhyun’s skin and he felt _dirty._ His face was next to his ear and he could feel the man’s breath on his bare neck as he whispered again. “Most of all for rejecting me in high school, _Baekhyun-ie._ I only fuck women but _for you_ …I could have made an exception. Those thighs, _ass_ and pretty face of yours…totally my thing. But you decided to leave me for that stupid boy. Oh no, _Baekhyun-ie._ You made the wrong choice” 

 

Paul stopped, dropping his grin for an evil expression of victory as he turned to the two other men and, in a single breath, he ordered: “Finish him” 

 

The last thing he saw before the first punch came was the moon, shining above him. 

 

_Chanyeol._

 

Suddenly, everything was just black. 

 

 

◉

 

 

“Where’s Baekhyun?!” the old man screamed while Chanyeol was still on the floor, in the middle of a respiratory crisis. 

 

He was drowning. 

 

Drowning in a black ocean with no light to guide him through the dark. 

 

Chanyeol kept looking for it, searching for a way to escape, but water kept dragging him down. 

 

“K—Kyungsoo called back and he said he was coming!” Jongin tried to stay calm, but Sehun was crying next to his brother, praying him to come back from his nightmare. 

 

“He should have been here already, It’s—“ 

 

The phone suddenly rang and Jongin ran to it, holding tightly onto the receiver. It was Kyungsoo again, but his voice was panicked and words hardly came out as his breathing invaded Jongin’s ear. The old man watched his grandson’s eyes change as soon as Kyungsoo managed to utter a proper answer and he already knew that something was wrong. 

 

Terribly wrong. 

 

“B—Baekhyun-hyung is—“ Jongin’s gaze was wet with tears that tried to escape and his voice was too weak. 

 

“What, son? What happened?” 

 

“B—Baekhyun-hyung is at the h—hospital” he said. “Someone b—beat him up when he t—tried to run here” 

_Baekhyun is at the hospital._

 

_Someone beat him up._

 

Those words were the only thing around him, resonating in the water like a distant echo, repeating and repeating. Jongin’s voice pierced through his skin like thousands of bullets devouring his flesh as the sound of the machine guns and the bombs dissipated. 

 

_Baekhyun._

 

He couldn’t breathe, dirt and water kept destroying his lungs as he tried to scream, but no sound came out, trapped in a nightmare with no end. 

 

_Baekhyun._

 

Chanyeol kept repeating his name in his head, like a mantra or a _prayer_ , and he tried to swim, even if his body felt like giving out, because he had to run to him. 

 

_Baekhyun._

 

Baekhyun laying on a hospital bed as only white surrounded him, as if God came to reclaim the most beautiful of his angels, to take him away from a place he didn’t belong to. 

 

Chanyeol kept on swimming as he reached the surface and regained his vision, coughing repeatedly while he tried to breathe again. 

 

“ _B—Baekhyun”_ he uttered, almost voiceless. “I have to…go to Baekhyun” 

 

The soldier was crawling on the floor, unable to even stand up on his own feet, dragging his limbs to the cane that was laying against the wall. Turner kept on barking, trying to stop him as his grandfather ran to him, telling him that he couldn’t go, that it was impossible in HIS condition, but Chanyeol heard none of it. Those voices were a distant sound inside in his head, bare clatters with no meaning, because Baekhyun’s face and voice were the only things he could see and hear. 

 

_Baekhyun._

 

The fear of losing the only person he ever loved, the one he used to call his _soulmate,_ was terrifying him, screaming and resonating in his brain like a Fury’s cry. Chanyeol felt his heart burning into flames, transforming into ashes, dark and lifeless. The dreams they shared, the love they made, the promises they confessed to the moon: it all came crushing down as Chanyeol tried to run, suffocating him again. Black drops fell, fell and never stopped, marking his faces with pain overflowing from his insides, shining in the darkness like the medal of a fallen soldier. Baekhyun’s arms were suddenly engulfing him, his perfume inebriating his brain, the sound of his voice resonating everywhere around him. 

 

No bombs, no mortars, no planes, no screams. 

 

It was just _Baekhyun_. 

 

“ _Baekhyun—“_

 

Chanyeol freed himself from his grandfather’s hold, taking his cane and running out of thehouse into the cold air, dragging his dead leg behind him. The central hospital was just a block away and the soldier kept running as his tears fell, crystallising in that dark night as the moon looked at him from above. 

 

_Baekhyun._

 

He couldn’t lose him. 

 

Baekhyun called him his Sun, but what was the Sun without his Moon? 

 

What were the sky, the stars, the night, without their Moon? 

 

What was _life_ , if Baekhyun wasn’t there? 

 

Who would caress his scars and tell him he was _beautiful?_ Who would hold him during stormy nights, when the world looked so scary? Who would kiss him like no one else ever did and make him want to fight for his life every single day? 

 

No one. 

 

No one but Baekhyun. 

 

Chanyeol was breathless, gasping for air as his leg hurt like the had bullet just pierced through his muscles. His hand was trembling against the cane, making it even harder to go on, but he kept running, like his life depended on it. 

 

And it did. It really did. 

 

Because the reason he kept on living was laying on an hospital bed, alone in a white and sterilised room. 

 

Chanyeol could distantly hear the voice of his grandpa trying to run to him, shouting at him to turn back, to just stop, but he never did. He never did, because Baekhyun was somewhere between _life_ and _death_ and he had to _run_ , run to him, to his love, to his _life._

 

_I’m coming, Baekhyun._

 

_I’m coming._

 

The hospital building appeared in front of him and, like a dead corpse crawling, Chanyeol reached for the door, slamming it open without care, ignoring the woman at the counter screaming at him. He didn’t know the room, nor the floor: Chanyeol wasn’t thinking, his body was moving but his brain had just stopped working. He just kept going, looking for the emergency department and praying for Baekhyun to be there and, when Kyungsoo appeared from behind the door, Chanyeol knew he was there. 

 

Only a few seconds and a glass wall away from him. 

 

“Where—Where is he, Kyungsoo?!” he screamed. “ _Where?!_ ” 

 

The younger boy didn’t speak, he just turned his head to the first door on the right, next to a glass wall. Baekhyun’s parents were standing in front of it: the father not even breathing, the mother crying her heart out as she clung onto her husband. Chanyeol walked slowly, limping towards the wall as the door opened again and his grandfather finally reached him, but didn’t dare to say a word. 

 

Baekhyun was there, looking like a sleeping angel, surrounded in white. 

 

A tube was attached to his hand and the repetitive sound of the machine next to the bed counted his heartbeats. Chanyeol touched the wall with his trembling hand, leaning on it, trying to reach Baekhyun even if he couldn’t. From there, Chanyeol could see all the bruises scratching his livid skin, the cuts covered by patches onthat beautiful face and his body looking so _lifeless_. 

 

“He’s—He’s fine, Chanyeol” Kyungsoo whispered. “He hasn’t woken up yet but…they said he isn’t in danger anymore. Minseok-hyung saved him before they could _ki_ — they could do anything worse” 

 

“Minseok?” he asked with a faint voice, never taking his eyes off Baekhyun. 

 

“They arrived together at the shop and when he ran to you, he followed him. It took him some time to find the right road but thankfully it was enough to save him” the younger laid one hand on his shoulder. “Minseok-hyung is at the police station now. They arrested him again. Someone saw him beating those three guys and called the cops” 

 

Chanyeol’s heart ached for Minseok too, but he couldn’t help it, he just kept staring at Baekhyun and thinking about how much he wanted to just hold him in his arms. 

 

“Who did this?” the soldier was trying to contain his rage, pressing his fist against the glass. “Who did this to him?” 

 

“Paul Hampsten and some of his friends” 

It felt like an hurricane. 

 

Chanyeol was in the middle of a tornado, a vortex of rage, defeating, destroying, _murderous._ He wanted to run to that same street and kill them, kill _him,_ with no hesitation, with all the resolution he didn’t have the courage to find on the battleground, for him and for Baekhyun. He could still see it all: Paul kicking him as he laid almost lifeless on that dirty ground, treating him like a disgusting cockroach, insulting him like an insect, making him want to just die right there and never see the light again. They teared his uniform off, letting him lay on the cold floor completely naked, humiliating him like a slaughter animal, depriving him of any drop of dignity he had left. 

 

And they did the same thing to the person he loved. 

 

His Baekhyun. 

 

Chanyeol screamed, hitting and punching the wall as he cried burning tears. 

 

“I’m gonna kill them!” he shouted. “I swear I’m gonna _kill_ them!” 

 

“Chanyeol, stop” the old man walked to him, holding his grandson’s shaking shoulders to keep him still. “One person in jail is already enough”. 

 

“ _I—I’m gonna kill them, I’m gonna kill them, I’m gonna—_ “ he kept repeating those words like a mantra, as copious tears fell down his face and sobs blocked his throat. Chanyeol cried on his grandfather’s shoulder, holding onto the old man like a desperate sailor hanging onto a lifebelt, trying to survive the waters. 

 

“It’s going to be fine, Chanyeol” the man whispered. “It’s going to be fine”. 

 

 

◉

 

 

Chanyeol stayed there for six hours. 

 

Seated on one chair in front of the glass wall, he waited there, alone, even after Baekhyun’s family had gone back home. 

 

Chanyeol heard his parents asking who he was. 

 

He saw Baekhyun’s father’s disgusted glare when Kyungsoo didn’t answer. 

 

They left saying nothing, just looking at him before exiting the door. 

 

When he was with Baekhyun, he just forgot about _it._

 

With Baekhyun, he forgot that the world wasn’t ready to accept their love; something so simple and pure, the most beautiful of all feelings. Their promises, their dreams: they all saw it as a sin. 

 

But it was something worth being _killed_ for. 

 

As he stared at Baekhyun, Chanyeol realised that he didn’t care if the world didn’t accept them. They would run, run to a different place, a different time, a different world where their love was _free_ to be. 

 

Chanyeol wanted to kiss Baekhyun as the whole world watched. 

 

The soldier walked to the glass, laying his trembling hand on its surface once again and just whispering a secret “ _I love you”._

 

 

◉

 

 

Nine hours had passed and Baekhyun was still unconscious. 

 

Chanyeol looked at people coming and going: doctors walking down the corridor, relatives visiting their loved ones, nurses happily chatting before their shifts started, but he didn’t move. 

 

He spent the whole night there, never taking his eyes off Baekhyun. 

 

“You should get some rest” a man said as soon as he arrived there, sitting on the chair next to him. 

 

Chanyeol just shook his head, without even uttering a word. 

 

“You’re Chanyeol, right?” he asked. “I’m Jongdae, the guy from _Siena’s”_

 

The soldier turned his head, looking at Jongdae for the first time since he sat there. His face looked tired, jaded with signs of exhaustion and, when Chanyeol noticed the white coat the guy was wearing, it wasn’t hard to guess the reason behind his weary expression. 

 

“It’s hard to leave the one you love, isn’t it?” the doctor said. “You feel like they’re gonna leave you as soon as you slam that door closed” 

 

Chanyeol didn’t say a word, he just listened. 

 

“I have been there too, once” Jongdae’s expression transformed into a bitter smile. “Seated on a chair, just looking at him behind a glass wall, wondering if I’ll ever see him smiling again, hear him talk to me or hug me like he used to” 

 

“You are in love with someone, too?” 

 

“I am. I still am” he lowered his head. “Even if they took him away from me, I still am” 

 

“What happened to him?” 

 

“He died during the war” Jongdae’s voice faltered as Chanyeol turned his head to him again. “I worked as a surgeon in a military hospital. For four years, I saw slaughtered bodies coming in through those doors: men without legs, arms, hands, feet, soaking and chocking on their same blood…but who would have thought that, one day, _he_ would be the one entering my operating room” 

 

Everything was silent for a minute before the doctor found the courage to speak again. 

 

“He lost both of his legs when a mine exploded right under his feet” a pause. “The operation lasted for four hours but the haemorrhage wouldn’t stop and his wounds were already too infected. I spent two hours just looking at him die behind that glass” 

 

Chanyeol didn’t know what to say as a tear fell from his eyes, wetting the collar of his shirt. 

 

“He was the love of my life even if I wasn’t his” the soldier didn’t know how, but Jongdae was smiling, serene, looking ahead of him with dreamy eyes, as if he was remembering those times they spent together. “He never loved me as more than a younger brother…but I couldn’t help it. I just fell for him. S _lowly but painfully_. I knew we had no future. He had a girlfriend he wanted to marry, but you can’t really tell your heart who it should beat for” 

 

A gulp. 

 

“He made me understand that even if the world was against me, I should have shouted at them who I really am, with no shame, because I was worth so much more than what they said” Jongdae kept going, still smiling. “I loved him so hard even if I didn’t even know what love was. But destiny decided to take him away from me” 

 

For the first time, Jongdae’s smile disappeared as he bit his lips, trying to stop the tears that were trying to escape from his eyes. 

 

“He died when I entered the room, as I held his hand and dreamed of a reality where we could have been together” one tear. “Every night, even after four years, I still see him in my dreams…he’s surrounded by all that light, smiling at me with those angelic eyes…but when I try to touch him he just disappears” 

 

Chanyeol laid one hand on the doctor’s leg. 

 

“A part of me died with him, that day” he whispered. “I thought about killing myself on that same night but I knew that it wasn’t what _Junmyeon_ would have wanted. He stopped me once. He would have stopped me that one time too”. 

 

“J—Junmyeon?” the soldier stuttered. “You are…in love with Baekhyun’s brother?” 

 

Jongdae just smiled again, turning his head at Baekhyun. 

 

“Yeah” 

 

The doctor stood up, drying one falling tear with the sleeve of his coat and slowly walking to the door before stopping, turning to Chanyeol once again. 

 

“Go to him, Chanyeol” he said. “Go to him and never let him go” 

 

As Jongdae disappeared, Chanyeol realised how there was no escape. 

 

Bombs and machine guns might have destroyed the battleground, but war was so much more than that. 

 

Even where mortars couldn’t shoot, they still _killed_. 

 

_Slowly but painfully._

 

 

◉

 

 

The room was silent as the only audible sound of the machine counted the seconds. The clock marked 3:00 in the morning. 

 

Chanyeol was walking towards his lover, holding onto his cane for support and closing the door behind him. He dragged a chair, positioned it next to bed and sat on it, admiring Baekhyun. 

 

“Hi, _love_ ” he whispered, taking the smaller’s hand in his and kissing it. 

 

From up close, Baekhyun’s condition even looked worse. 

 

His beautiful face was bruised, livid, covered in patches from his cheeks to his forehead and his lips were still red with blood. One of Baekhyun’s delicate hands was attached to the IV, that drop by drop injected the transparent liquid in his veins, as his chest moved regularly. Chanyeol was torn between rage and desperation, his free hand clenched in a fist but his eyes were weeping, unremitting, as he looked at the man he loved. 

 

“They say you’re fine, but why aren’t you waking up?” the taller whispered again, caressing Baekhyun’s face this time. “It’s been ten hours. I know you’re a heavy sleeper, but this is—a bit too much” 

 

Chanyeol giggled, unclenching his hand and holding Baekhyun’s again, with both of his. 

 

“You—You do remember our promise, right?” his voice was shaking. “Us running away from all of this…to a different land where no one knows us…living our love as it deserves to be lived” 

 

Baekhyun’s hand was warm between his, making that love flow in his veins even harder, putting him at ease in that safe sensation that felt so much like _home._

 

“We talked about Italy, remember?” he continued. “Turner will come with us and, who knows, we could adopt another animal, too? A bunny, maybe? How does it sound? I think it would perfectly fit our little family” 

 

Chanyeol kept looking at his lover’s hand but, if he just raised his head a little higher, he would have seen a small smile appearing on Baekhyun’s lips. 

 

“I would continue my studies and I could become a vet. Or maybe we could open a shelter together. In a big, beautiful field where you could plant all your flowers” Chanyeol smiled too, even if those tears felt so heavy on his skin. “With a house, _our_ house. Where we can make love all night long” 

 

He stopped, swallowing the pain that got stuck in his throat. 

 

“I don’t—care if the world won’t accept us, Baekhyun. If I have you loving me, I can keep fighting for the rest of my life” he whispered once again. “And I will fight. _With_ you, _for_ you. For the future we both deserve. Destiny only gave us pain, my love, but I’ll make sure to turn those grey clouds into a sky full of stars” 

 

A pause. 

 

“I love you, my beautiful _Bluebird”_

 

Silence. 

 

“ _S—Sialia…Curru—Currucoides”_

 

_His_ voice. 

 

“It—It’s the scientific name. For _Bluebirds”_

 

Chanyeol swore his heart exploded in that exact moment. 

 

Tears started falling like rain during a storm but, above him, there was a rainbow, full of colours, of joy, as the sun peaked through the dark clouds and brought the light back again. 

 

“ _B—Baekhyun?_ ” he whispered, voice chocked by his crying. “Oh my God, Baekhyun!” 

 

The soldier laid his head on his lover’s stomach, crying into the white sheet that covered his body as Baekhyun caressed his hair with the small amount of strength he had left. Chanyeol dropped on his knees, still crying, but thanking the sky and everything that stood above for bringing his Baekhyun back. 

 

“I—I t—tought I—I thought I lost you!” Chanyeol cried as the other kissed the crown of his head. 

 

“I will…never leave you, _Yeorie._ I promised you” Baekhyun’s voice was barely audible and hoarse. “You will never l—lose me” 

 

“I was so scared” he managed to say thought the tears. “I can’t—I can’t do this without you, Baekhyun. I—I can’t” 

 

“That’s not t—true, _baby”_ a whisper. “You o—overcame your crisis alone, today. I wasn’t there but you still won against it. All by yourself. I’m…proud of you” 

 

And then, they kissed, like the first time, the last and all the ones in between. 

 

That feeling that never changed, the sensation of each other’s lips pressed together, savouring the taste of the purest form of love. Their kiss was savoury, wet of all those tears that fell down their eyes as they abandoned themselves to the other and their hands intertwined as one. 

 

With the moon watching above them, whispering to the stars, Chanyeol and Baekhyun sealed their love in a promise that didn’t need any word. The melody of their heartbeats echoed in their ears like the most beautiful symphony, killing the sound of the bombs falling, the screams and the machine guns. In front of them, the battleground disappeared, burning into ashes and rising again as a field full of flowers, where no red sky overhung and a beautiful sun shone. 

 

A place where bluebirds sang, announcing peace. 

 

_“The way…you wear your hat, the way you…sip your tea”_ as their kiss ended, Baekhyun just started singing, whispering, holding Chanyeol’s face as tears chocked his voice. “ _The memory of all that…no, no…they can’t take that away from me”_

 

 

“ _Oh my god, are you okay?”_

 

“ _Does anything hurt? Do you need help?”_

 

_“Y-your eyes”_

 

_“My eyes?”_

 

_“T-they look l-like the ones of a Sialia Currucoides”_

 

_“It’s supposed to be a compliment, right?”_

 

_“I-it’s the scientific name for B-Bluebirds”_

 

_“Oh, they’re pretty then”_

 

 

_“The way your smile…just beams…The way you sing off key…The way you haunt my dreams”_ it was the song that played from the store the first time they met, when they both fell in love after a gaze. Baekhyun kept singing, but still whispering between his tears, as if it was a secret not even the moon could have known. “ _no, no…they can’t take that away from me”_

 

 

_“My name is Baekhyun”_

 

_“And yours?”_

 

_“I-I’m Chanyeol”_

 

_“Hi Chanyeol! I really hope we meet again!”_

 

 

“ _The way you…hold your knife”_ as Baekhyun sang, the memories of their days together kept flooding their minds, playing like the most beautiful of all movies.

 

 

“ _Is it another one of your flowers?”_

 

_“It’s called Acacia flower”_

 

_“What’s their meaning, this time?”_

 

_“I’m not gonna tell you yet, so you have to promise me one thing”._

 

“ _You have to come back. To me”_

 

“ _The way we danced till three”_ he kept going, as Chanyeol just stared at him and caressed his cheek, lost in his eyes, entranced. 

 

 

_“Acacia flowers mean secret love, Chanyeol-ah. Because the little florist had fallen in love with that guy, the clumsy boy that fell from his bike right in front of him—and never stopped loving him”._

 

 

_“The way you changed my life”_

 

 

_“When we get married, you’ll have to cook every day, I’m a mess, I could literally burn the house down. For future necessity: I love pasta”_

 

_“We—We’ll get married?”_

 

_“Of course, you Dumbo”_

 

_“But…we’re both men, Baekhyun”_

 

_“I have faith. I have faith that, one day, this world will start to accept us and realise that our love is no different. If they won’t, we’ll get married nonetheless because we don’t need a piece of paper to testify our love”._

 

 

_“No, No. They can’t take that away from me”_

 

It was in those moments that the time just froze and the world suddenly eclipsed. 

 

It was just them. 

 

Them and nothing else. 

 

“Byun Baekhyun, would you want to spend the rest of your life with me?” 

 

And when Chanyeol asked, Baekhyun didn’t even have to think. 

 

As a faint _“yes”_ escaped his lips, the moon listened and their promise was forever engraved among the stars. 

 

 

◉

 

 

 

Chapter V: Epilogue 

**_Bluebirds in the Moonlight_ **

 

Messina, Gulf of Gela 

**_April 30, 1956_ **

 

 

 

“Hi, guys” 

 

It took him ten years. 

 

Ten years to start healing, to accept his trauma and affront it, face to face. 

 

During those years, Chanyeol fought for his life every second of his days. Nightmares, panic attacks, sleepless nights, screams, uncontrollable anger crisis. Pain, pain and so much pain. But he made his own life the reason to keep fighting. 

 

And, in that moment, the circle was about to be closed. 

 

As Baekhyun held his hand and the sun fell asleep behind them, three tombs looked at them in absolute silence. White crosses, aligned, resting next to each other. Engraved on their surface, only three names and the same date stood. 

 

_Shelby Quill._

 

_Lean Peter._

 

_Naley Thomas._

 

**_July 10, 1943._ **

 

“Look who’s here” he smiled. “This is Baekhyun”. 

 

Baekhyun crouched down next to him, laying the flower crowns he had made in front of the three graves, smiling at them. 

 

Ten years. 

 

Ten years and they still loved each other more than the Sun loved the Moon. 

 

Baekhyun had always been there. 

 

During his nightmares, he would hold him. When panic attacks struck, he caressed his face. As countless of sleepless nights passed, he laid awake on the same bed, stroking his hair while telling him thousands of his stories. Baekhyun killed all his screams, shutting him up with endless kisses, even when Chanyeol shouted at him in anger, reminding him of how beautiful the world was. 

 

Baekhyun healed him. 

 

No matter how many times Chanyeol told him to find someone better than him, someone that was actually worthy of his love and able to give him the life he deserved, Baekhyun would never hesitate. He always stayed. 

 

_“If the fire doesn’t burn out, the rain will wash it away, Chanyeol-ah. So let me be your rain”._

 

And he was. 

 

Baekhyun was the rain that extinguished every fire. 

 

He was the yellow acacia flower that shone under the sunlight. 

 

He was the beautiful, humming bluebird that sang on the battleground and announced the arrival of peace. 

 

“He’s the love of my life” he continued. “Yes, Thomas, did you hear me? I found the courage to confess” 

 

Chanyeol stopped, breathing harshly, and Baekhyun tightened the hold on his lover’s hand. 

 

“You—You promised to come to Chicago but since you—you had the guts to never fulfil your promise, we came here instead” the soldier joked, even if his voice cracked. 

 

Chanyeol’s memories of those last hours they spent together are still vivid. He remembered how at home he felt, despite the machine shooting around them, and how, for the first time, he hadn’t felt scared of who he was. 

 

_“If there’s anything the war has taught me is that we’re all human. I saw people dying for two years: men, women, children. They all died in the same way and we will all die like that too. Humans just close their eyes and go, no matter who they loved or which color their skin was, their souls are made of the same substance. Once parasites will attack our organs and our skin will decompose, then what will remain? Just bones”._

Those words Thomas told them still echoed in his mind, even after all those years. 

 

When they confessed their love to Baekhyun’s parents, he thought about what he said that night, too. 

 

Chanyeol still remembered the father’s face. 

 

His eyes were wet, almost disappointed, as if he already understood it all but prayed every night for that intuition to be wrong. The man didn’t scream, nor told them to disappear, but that gaze killed Baekhyun more than every word could. He said nothing and just walked away, never looking at his son in the eyes again. 

 

They never saw him again. 

 

Baekhyun broke down in his arms that night, crying and screaming, asking _how, how_ could a father look at his own son like that, as if he was a disgusting being that deserved to rot in Hell. 

 

During that same night, Baekhyun asked Chanyeol to run away with him. 

 

And they did. _Together._

 

“I wish that…people could look at our love in the same way you did” he said. “For the first time, I felt _right._ With you, I wasn’t different, a sin, or diseased. I was just a boy in love” 

 

Baekhyun smiled at him, kissing his forehead as a cloak of stars slowly appeared above them. 

 

“We ran away” Chanyeol was now seated on the ground as darkness surrounded them, just like it did that night. “We ran away and came here, where no one knows us, and bought a small house near the beach with our savings. Baekhyun opened his own flower shop. He made you these himself, isn’t he so talented?” he smiled, turning his face to his lover for a second as he delicately caressed the three flower crowns. 

 

“We have our little family now, with our Turner, who is an old senior dog, and our bunny, _Mr. Strawberry—_ Baekhyun chose the name. We found him here, on the beach, trapped in a piece of barbed wire and, sometimes, I think that he looks so much like me” he stopped. “I was a wounded animal, trapped in that trauma that still makes my cuts bleed, but someone came and saved me, curing my throbbing wounds with his love”. 

 

The wind blew. 

 

“My brothers grew up so fast” Chanyeol’s smile was now bright, letting the words flow as Baekhyun laid his head on his shoulder. “Sehun is now working as a model, can you believe that? But he’s the single one, now. Jongin always makes fun of him for that, he’s taking his revenge because — please don’t tell anyone — he’s been on a few dates with someone lately” he said, giggling. “With Kyungsoo, Baekhyun’s brother, how funny is it? They’re studying in the same University and something was born during the summer, even if Kyungsoo knows that his father…would never accept it. He’s a tough kid, he’s braver than we were. I just wish my grandfather was still there to see it but, it’s okay. He gave us his blessing before he _went._ Maybe—Maybe you already met”. 

 

Baekhyun’s lips delicately kissed Chanyeol’s temple. 

 

“ _Siena’s_ reopening was a success!” his voice was even louder now. “Minseok has been discharged after two years and he’s happier than ever, still loving himself to the fullest because, _boy, If you can't love yourself how the hell are you gonna love somebody else?”_ he said, quoting Minseok, and Baekhyun couldn’t help but laugh at his tone. “Yixing…he’s doing better. He’s still fighting, but he’s learning how to look at the world around him with different eyes and Jongdae too. They’re helping each other heal”. 

 

Chanyeol paused again as one tear fell. 

 

“How—How are you doing up there?” he asked, wavering. “Are you watching me, from the sky?” 

 

Silence. 

 

“You know—there are nights when I can’t sleep so I just…look at the sky, right where the Moon stands and, every time, three stars seems to be shining brighter than the others, as if they’re smiling at me” Chanyeol could feel Baekhyun’s fingers caressing his hand. “It’s you, isn’t it?” he smiled, bitterly, catching a tears falling. “My biggest regret was _living_ , when you all lied there… _lifeless_ and those stars—those stars should have been _four”_

 

The soldier turned his head, focusing his eyes on Thomas’ tomb and laying his trembling hand on it, caressing his name. 

 

“You—You gave up your own life for me” one tear. “I won’t waste your grant. I’ll make sure to live for you too, Thomas”. 

 

With that, Chanyeol gave them one last gaze, before standing up on his feet with the help of his cane. Baekhyun’s arm intertwined with his and, as they walked one step toward the sea, Chanyeol just whispered that one word he never had the possibility to tell them. 

 

_“Goodbye”_

 

As the moon rose and those three stars greeted them from the sky, Chanyeol and Baekhyun started walking on the beach, with bare feet and a lighter heart, looking at the sea in front of them. 

 

They kissed and their _I love you’s_ were engraved in the air, in the sky, in that same sea, in those flowers blooming on the shore and in time, flowing unceasingly. 

 

Chanyeol and Baekhyun got married on January 3rd 2017, at the age of 92 years old, on the beach of Messina, as their _I love you’s_ still echoed all around them. Chanyeol’s legs stopped working completely, both of his hands were shaking and, even if Baekhyun’s strength slowly disappeared, he kept holding him, for the rest of his life. 

 

Their lights extinguished together, two years after, on a warm day of august. 

 

On their way to the sky, they spread their wings as they went and the Moon took them back. 

 

During that same night, two stars started shining in the dark, _together_ , as bluebirds in the moonlight sang for them. 

 

 

◉

 

 

** _The End_ **


End file.
